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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247935">We shall find each other again, be it in this world or another</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_fighter_like_Eowyn/pseuds/A_fighter_like_Eowyn'>A_fighter_like_Eowyn</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Witcher (TV), Wiedźmin | The Witcher (Video Game), Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure &amp; Romance, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Alternate Universe - Romantic Comedy, Angst, Angst and Feels, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Best Friends, Boys In Love, Boys Kissing, Breaking Up &amp; Making Up, Comfort/Angst, Crying Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Declarations Of Love, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, Dorks in Love, Drama &amp; Romance, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Falling In Love, Family, Family Bonding, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Family Reunions, Father-Daughter Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Smut, Forehead Kisses, Foreplay, French Kissing, Friends to Lovers, Friendship/Love, Gay Sex, Gentle Kissing, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Is In Love, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Loves Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Talks About Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Whump, Good Friend Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Happy Ending, Having Faith, Heartache, Heartbreak, Heartbreaking, Heartbroken Jaskier | Dandelion, Heavy Angst, Hurt, Hurt Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, Insecure Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Insecurity, Jaskier | Dandelion Loves Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Kiss Kiss Fall in Love, Kissing, Loss, Loss of Faith, Lost Love, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Major Character Injury, Major Original Character(s), Making Love, Making Out, Male Friendship, Meet the Family, Men Crying, Misunderstandings, Mother-Son Relationship, Mutual Pining, Neck Kissing, Non-Canonical Character Death, Pain, Past Relationship(s), Pining, Pining Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Pining Jaskier | Dandelion, Pre-Relationship, Reconciliation, Reunions, Romance, Romantic Angst, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Friendship, Romantic Gestures, Romantic Soulmates, Separations, Sex, Slow Romance, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Soft Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Soft Jaskier | Dandelion, True Love, True Love's Kiss</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:14:03</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>49,882</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25247935</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/A_fighter_like_Eowyn/pseuds/A_fighter_like_Eowyn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Jaskier sustains a mortal wound in the final battle against Cahir and Fringilla's forces. Yennefer and Triss, realizing that Cahir is moments away from dealing Geralt a lethal blow, throws him out of harm's way and through a portal they inadvertently open up. Little do they initially realize that the portal leads to another, completely different world.</p><p>Meanwhile, in a quiet suburb of London, young cardiologist and music enthusiast Dr. Jason Coleridge comes home in the evening to an otherworldly phenomenon that leaves a bleeding, wounded, armoured man on his apartment floor, with flowing white hair and amber eyes. The next morning, when the man regains consciousness and opens his eyes, his gaze falls upon Jason and a single name falls from his lips,<br/>"Jaskier?!"</p><p>Keep in mind that Jason is in the world that we all readers currently inhabit, but there has been no Witcher novel written, so Jason has absolutely no idea whatsoever about Witchers and sorceresses and Ciri and their magical universe and the monsters that inhabit that universe.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Cirilla &amp; Geralt z Rivii &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion &amp; Triss Merigold &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon &amp; Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon &amp; Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Original Male Character(s), Triss Merigold &amp; Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>66</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>89</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>The Witcher AU, Witcher - Geralt/OC</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Losing you, finding your doppelganger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dun dun dun!! My second fic has officially begun!! Please do review :-)</p><p>Geralt is saved by Yennefer and Triss from certain death, but in the process they inadvertently open a portal and send him off to ... well, our world !! And whose apartment does he come crashing into? Well, read on to find out :-D</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The rubab or rabab that has been mentioned here is a stringed musical instrument originating in Central and West Asia. It has a very sweet, if a little melancholy and wistful, sound -- makes me think of far-off mountains and Bedouins in the deserts :-D</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Yen, help Jask!"</p><p>Geralt's panicked wail reached the sorceress even as she and Triss desperately fought to subdue an almost rabid-looking Fringilla to the ground. The evil, bloodthirsty witch was nearly spent, yet she was putting up one heck of a fight against her two once-comrades.</p><p>Yen knew -- had glimpsed with horror (and an almost gut-wrenching sense of loss that she had not thought she could feel for the bard) through the periphery of her vision the crossbow bolt that had sailed through the air and impaled Jaskier. </p><p>Jaskier, who had hurled himself between certain death from that same crossbow bolt and his Witcher.</p><p>Geralt's entire attention had been kept occupied by Cahir -- a worthy opponent if ever there was one -- whose quick ripostes and parries and strikes at Geralt made him look like a blur, so fast he was with the help of the added strength that Fringilla's spells endowed him with. Every inch of skin on the Witcher's taut body was glistening with sweat from his efforts to slay Cahir, to find some chink of weakness in his armour, and the corded muscles on his neck and his arms stood out as he panted like a dog.</p><p>And now, along with the perspiration that trickled down his face, there were tears.</p><p>It was a credit to his gold Witcher-eyes that the tears did not blur his vision. Thankfully. He couldn't afford to make a mistake here. A moment's slip and Cahir would have the upper hand. </p><p>And Cahir must not win.  </p><p>Because Ciri. His Ciri. His darling daughter. </p><p>Too little time they had had together. Too little time for the Witcher to properly dote on his Child Surprise. </p><p>Ciri must not be taken by Cahir. Ciri must live. And her father would do anything for her.</p><p><i>Anything.</i> Like continuing to fight Cahir until he finished off the bastard for good, even when pain exploded in his heart. </p><p>Even when all he wanted to do was rush to the side of Jaskier, wrap up in his arms the fragile, now copiously bleeding body of his lithe bard and staunch the blood-flow, sew back the tissues and nerves and veins and arteries that had been torn, heal all the organs that had been ripped open, bandage the wound. Even when all he wanted to do was howl in an almost heart-stopping agony, as his partner -- the man he had hoped he would marry once the war was over -- lay drowning in his own pool of blood, skewered with an arrow, bloody froth dribbling out of his mouth as his eyes slipped closed.</p><p>"Yen, please!"</p><p>Yennefer almost reeled from the utterly broken plea escaping her best friend's lips. </p><p>Oh! Such pain! </p><p>She had come to love Jaskier in a way she had not initially thought possible -- like a bit-too-feisty friend and younger brother. They had slowly started to knit themselves into a still-awkward, but no less loving, family.</p><p>And now, Jaskier...</p><p>Yennefer perceived, simply from her enhanced senses, that there was really no way even the combined prowess of Triss and herself could bring back the bard who was now moments away from slipping into death. Ignoring the furious tears that were now cascading down from her vivid violet eyes, she let out a feral snarl and drove a volley of icicles, sharper than the sharpest of daggers, with tremendous force through Fringilla's defensive shield, shattering it. A moment later, Nilfgaard's sorceress crumpled to the ground, patches of blood blooming, spreading from the spots on her chest and abdomen where Yen's icicles had plunged deep into her body.</p><p>At almost that same moment, Geralt saw an opening and ran Cahir through with his sword with a ferocity that was unprecedented even in a Witcher such as himself. With a resounding cry, the Nilfgaardian leader crashed to the ground. Ignoring his throes of death, the Witcher pulled his sword out, and in what seemed like a mere human heartbeat, reached his bard.  </p><p>With Fringilla disposed of for good, the two sorceresses also rushed to their dying friend's side. Jaskier lay breathing very shallowly, and when Triss felt his pulse, it was very, very weak.</p><p>"Jask!", a broken sob escaped the mighty White Wolf's bloodied, bruised lips, and he pressed his forehead to his partner's as his bloodstained, grimy palms cupped the bard's face with a tenderness that belied the mammoth strength the Witcher possessed. </p><p>"Yen, please!"</p><p>Yennefer's small hands pressed down on the gaping hole in Jaskier's chest, the arrowhead made to disappear magically, blood now gushing forth like a rivulet. She couldn't suppress a desperate sob of her own.</p><p>"It's too deep ... the wound. Too lethal, Geralt. I can't ... oh god I can't ..."</p><p>"Please Yen, please! Triss, please ... he is slipping away. Jaskier, please. Beloved, come back."</p><p>The two sorceresses -- boasting of almost unsurpassed powers among those still alive across the Continent -- just sat there, helpless and heartbroken, as they witnessed one friend succumbing to his injuries, and another friend's dear heart withering away irrevocably with his passing, never to be mended again.</p><p>Out of the corner of her eye, Triss saw a sudden, furtive movement. She barely had time to yell a warning, "Yennefer!", before Cahir, somehow defying the mortal blow dealt him by Geralt, managed to raise his arm and throw a spear, aimed straight at the Witcher's back.</p><p>Aimed to pierce him through his heart. Just like Jaskier had been.</p><p>Horror rising like bile in their throats, the sorceresses watched the spear streak past them -- a fell black thing racing towards Geralt.</p><p>Geralt, who was still kneeling with his head bowed, face pressed to Jaskier's clammy forehead, too consumed in grief to know of the certain death hurtling towards him. </p><p>With matching shrieks, the two women thrust their palms outward and something shot out of them, slamming on to Geralt's side and throwing him out of harm's way, his body skittering across the floor.</p><p>But the spell had been too strong, and something had gone horribly wrong. Perhaps it was because how exhausted both Yennefer and Triss felt, shoulders sagging forward, after their battle with Fringilla. Perhaps it was the desperation and terror at the prospect of losing yet another friend that addled their minds and clouded their judgment. </p><p>Perhaps it was something else. Like Destiny.</p><p>Because where they had only intended to fling their friend out of the path of the approaching spear, they now found that a portal had opened up -- a portal that somehow seemed strange and unfamiliar even to their experienced eyes and senses -- and Geralt...</p><p>Geralt's body skidded through the portal.</p><p>And disappeared.</p><p>And the portal collapsed.</p><p>                                                                                                             ***********************************************************************</p><p>It had been a rather long day. Overseeing two open-heart surgeries. Visiting his critically ill patients, meeting with their families and explaining the next course of action. Meticulously working through what seemed like an endless string of out-patients, ordering out a long list of angiograms and echocardiograms and so on.</p><p>At the end of it all, Jason felt like he could sleep on his feet, standing right where he was.</p><p>He half considered taking a nap in his office chair. But he knew he won't wake up until midnight or so if he passed out then and there. His spine was hurting, his back and shoulder muscles stiff and aching. He owed it to his body to go back home and rest in a proper bed.</p><p>Reluctantly, he stepped out of the hospital's premises and started the long trek towards the nearest tube station. </p><p>A few doctors and nurses he ran into on his way wished him 'goodnight's, smiling pleasantly. Jason was well-loved and popular -- he was not only handsome, with usually a boyish grin on his face, but charming, sincere, kind and caring, and he listened. He listened with seemingly endless patience to his patients' worries, their families' anxious babbling, the laments and complaints of heartbroken or lovesick colleagues, and once or twice, even lent his shoulder to some distressed colleague to cry on. He was a rarity -- someone almost too good and compassionate to be true in a harsh, fast-paced, uncaring world.</p><p>Right now, though, Jason was too tired to think of anything or anyone else. All he wanted to do was get home, whip up some quick meal, eat and then...</p><p>And then, either sit down with his rubab and strum a few notes, or crash into his bed with the epic fantasy novel he had picked up this week, and become totally engrossed in its pages.  </p><p>These were his chiefest of hobbies -- he loved writing and composing songs (though he needed a <i>lot</i> of coaxing from his handful of close friends to sing them out loud, and most people did not even know about this carefully concealed talent of his), and devouring fantastical tales, series after series of epic fantasy and adventure novels, mythological accounts that would seem bizarre to any other adult.</p><p>By the time he had reached his doorsteps though, he was so tired that he decided that perhaps that night, he ought to go straight to bed, and sleep in as late as his heart wished. Take full advantage of the weekend that was to begin the day after.</p><p>He entered his apartment, and shut the door. Immediately, the evening sounds of suburban London were cut off, immersing the place in blessed quiet. He flicked on the light bulbs of the living room that he had intentionally chosen to be dim and soothing, suffusing the area in a warm golden glow. The keys clattered on to the kitchen counter as he busily started unbuttoning his jacket.</p><p>In the nearly pin-drop silence of his apartment, a completely unexpected, strange sound reached his ears. A weird crackle, along with what sounded like the noise of cloth being ripped. So foreign, and somehow so unnerving it sounded to the totally unprepared doctor that his head whipped around, cricking his neck, to seek the source of this noise.</p><p>Behind him, directly in front of the glass pane of the sliding door that led out on to the balcony, on the far side of the two couches that lined the walls of the living room ...</p><p>The air was rippling with odd little tendrils of turbulence along the boundary of what seemed to Jason to be a circle growing in size at an alarming rate. The air around it seethed and writhed, causing the soft yet nerve-wracking crackling and rustling noises, and glowed an eerie grey-blue. </p><p>Mouth hanging open, Jason gaped as the invisible fabric of the air in his apartment was rent into a tear -- a massive hole, the edges of which now emitted an electric-blue glare that was becoming brighter and brighter by the second.</p><p>Something big and black shot through the hole and landed with a painful-sounding crunch and a thud on to the heavily-carpeted floor.</p><p>Jason could not see anything more as he was forced to screw shut his eyes in an attempt to protect them from being blinded, as the light continued to wax to an unbearable effulgence, along with an eerie keening sound that rose to a crescendo, causing him to clap his hands over his ears.</p><p>Then, the light disappeared. Abruptly. Without leaving the slightest trace. And the sound ceased too.</p><p>Jason kept his eyes closed for a few seconds longer, unsure of what he would be faced with should he open them. After the unendurable brilliance of the alien light, the room seemed to have been plunged in darkness, the soft glow of his electric lamps doing little to dispel it. He knew he would need a moment to adjust his vision once he did dare to open his eyes.</p><p>But then, he heard a sound.</p><p>A ragged breath being torn from lungs that seemed to have been pushed to their farthest limits.</p><p>A sound so desperate and painful that it made the cardiologist's heart clench in sympathy, and his eyes flew open.</p><p>On the floor, between the couches, close to the coffee table, curled into a fetal position, with his back facing Jason ... lay a man.</p><p>One look at the prone form and the doctor knew he was grievously wounded.</p><p>If it had been anyone else, they would have hesitated. May be rushed to call the police. May be fled their own apartment, yelling for help. At least called the doorman for aid.</p><p>If it had been anyone else, they would have probably been rooted to the spot for at least several minutes in utter incredulity and mind-numbing horror and bewilderment. Not been able to move a muscle. Stared at the evidently alien being that now lay on their carpeted floor with nothing but terror, revulsion and the violent urge to defend themselves from whatever <i>it</i> was.</p><p>If it had been anyone else, their heart would be in their mouth. But not because of seeing the smudges of congealed blood that marred the gossamer-white flowing hair at the back of the alien being's head. They would not notice the way his body shook in obvious, excruciating pain, the black armour sliced open in several places on his back and his left arm, revealing grisly wounds that oozed blood, the hideous circular patch of blood and pus on the calf of his right leg where something had bitten the flesh clean off.</p><p>But this was <i>not</i> someone else. This was the unfailingly kind, impossibly compassionate and loving Dr. Jason Coleridge. And if he saw someone writhing and trembling in that much agony, he would intervene, alien origins and toppling out of a hole in thin air be damned.</p><p>Rushing to his new patient's side, he very lightly touched his shoulder. Placing one arm underneath his head so as to rock him as little as possible, in case he had a severe head injury, he very slowly, very patiently, turned the man on to his back.</p><p>A proud nose. Firm yet soft and inviting lips, now swollen and covered in blood. Noble cheekbones. A not too conspicuous widow's peak. The hair from the centre of the head combed and gathered together in a long pony-tail fastened with a black leather cord. The luxurious hair on either side cascading down in beautiful, but now mussed up, mud-spattered and bloodied, waves, framing the (Jason had to admit) gorgeous face. An angry gash running down the left cheek, still seeping small amounts of blood. Numerous cuts adorning the forehead.</p><p>Eyes that remained closed, and still-glistening tear-tracks underneath them.</p><p>The man whimpered in pain at this small movement, and a single name (or was it just some word in another language?) escaped his mouth, "Jaskier!"</p><p>There were many tears in the breastplate of the armour as well -- all showing injuries that almost made Jason's stomach turn. What the heck! It looked like someone had hacked at this poor man with a wicked knife or a broadsword or a scimitar, with no mercy whatsoever! Without divesting him of his (apparently rather heavy and stout) armour, the doctor could not tell if some of these blows might prove fatal -- perhaps nicking a lung or piercing the diaphragm.</p><p>One relief was that the man was not bleeding from his mouth. Yet.</p><p>It broke the young doctor's heart. Oh, poor soul! He was in so much anguish. Jason just hoped he would be able to help, and that there was enough time.</p><p>"Shhh, it's okay. You're okay", he murmured, as his hands busied themselves trying to tug off the armour -- loosening the gauntlets and the vambraces, fidgeting with the ties of the breastplate and the backplates -- stripping his patient down until he was exposed to the doctor's medical scrutiny from the waist up. Without hesitation, Jason reached up and tore open the linen shirt, biting back a gasp of shock as he looked down at the crisscrossing, bleeding knife-wounds that scarred the man's entire broad chest. </p><p>The back had witnessed much the same bloodbath. The wounds were very deep and gruesome, but none seemed to have reached any organ, and none seemed deadly by itself. Jason deftly examined the wound at the back of his left arm, then continued stripping off the cuisses and greaves of the armour, revealing the toned muscles of the man's legs. Here too, the assailant had landed blows, but Jason was sure the tissues would gradually knit themselves back together with some help.</p><p>What caught his concerned gaze was the deep, gaping bite-wound that bloomed like a poisonous thing on the back of his right leg. Jason couldn't tell what made him so sure it was indeed a bite-wound, since no teeth marks were visible. That patch of skin and flesh already looked infected.</p><p>He had to move, and fast. The way the man was bleeding from so many wounds, Jason wondered if he might go into hypovolemic shock. Especially since he could not quite ascertain whether the victim was also hemorrhaging  internally -- a possibility he could not ignore given the purpling bruises that marked his abdomen. And he had to somehow disinfect and keep that bite-wound from festering further.</p><p>Carrying the rather heavily-built man to the bedroom was out of the question, and he did not wish to aggravate his wounds by jostling him more than was necessary. The sofas could each be converted into a broad and comfortable bed (Jason had purchased them with the possibility of his few close friends staying over in mind), and for now, one of those would have to do.</p><p>He rose to his feet and quickly pushed the nearest sofa's backrest down. Reaching into the storage bin underneath the sofa, he pulled out a soft, downy sheet to fling over the slightly rougher surface of the thick upholstery, to make it more comfortable, then added a pillow at one end of the now-quite-cozy-looking bed.</p><p>Turning his attention back to the shallowly breathing man on the floor, he softly said, more to soothe his own nerves than for any other reason, "Alright, mate, stay with me ... I am going to have to move you on to the sofa-bed."</p><p>He wriggled his arms, up to his elbows, underneath the man's armpits, hoisting him half off the ground. The poor man's head lolled a bit, and Jason was mindful of not letting him hurt his neck. Jaws clenched in effort, he slowly dragged the limp body towards the sofa, then hauled him onto it.</p><p>"Now", he murmured, "Let's see to your wounds."</p><p>                                                                                                           *****************************************************************</p><p>When Geralt came around, the first sensation his somewhat foggy mind registered was pain. Excruciating, searing pain, like his whole body was on fire.</p><p>The Witcher's mind panicked for a moment. Usually, even after the fiercest of fights and battles, his mutant body would heal almost entirely by itself, leaving behind only faint scars, and he hardly felt any pain after a good rest. Yet now, his brain screamed at him, and he was not quite sure what to make of it.</p><p>He could not yet open his eyes. Instead, the Witcher forced his frantic, fractious mind to calm down a bit, reached out with his senses to feel the wounds that battered his body, beginning from his crown downward. The gash on the cheek hurt, but barely. The flesh on his chest and back seemed to have been shredded by a knife-wielding drunk butcher -- so numerous were the lacerations there. There were aches underneath his skin in his belly, making breathing somewhat difficult, and he hoped his visceral organs had not been damaged. The slashes on his left arm and legs were also aching, but bearably. </p><p>The most prominent of the injuries was the pain he sensed in his right calf, like someone had branded the flesh there with white-hot iron. </p><p>Hmm, that would be the bite of one of the strange monsters Fringilla's dark magic had unleashed upon them...</p><p>Geralt's eyes flew open, as memories slammed back into his conscious mind.</p><p>And in that moment, he realized with a keening moan that involuntarily escaped his lips, that the most cutting, most scorching, most crippling pain was not, in fact, anywhere else...</p><p>...but his heart.</p><p>His body almost wanted to buckle with the sense of loss that engulfed his mind. <i>Jaskier! Oh god, Jaskier! Please, let him live ... oh Melitele, take me instead ... </i></p><p>He started crying. Unable to help it anymore, he let the tears come, and they came as if a floodgate had been raised. A strangled sob tore itself from his chest and he could no longer be bothered to even try to suppress it.</p><p>With his sharpened mutant hearing, he caught the sound of footsteps approaching, then someone was bending over him, placing a soft hand gently on his own, speaking in a soft, soothing voice ...</p><p>"Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay! Breathe! You're okay. You're fine."</p><p>Geralt's eyes flew open. </p><p>A face filled his vision. Young, beautiful, with silky, chestnut-brown hair in disarray, wide cornflower-blue eyes filled with concern as they stared at him.</p><p>And a single name fell from his astonished lips.</p><p>"Jaskier?!"</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. How I hate that face, and that voice...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Second chapter up! Please forgive Geralt -- he is utterly confused, scared (as much as a stoical Witcher can be scared), angry, frustrated and feels trapped, unable to escape a world completely alien to him. Allow him to be a bit of a dick ... trust me, he will come around as the new chapters come ;-) :-D I elaborated a lot on conversations in this chapter, since there is no other believable way of building up the chemistry between Geralt and our good doctor. See if you feel that some parts of it have the same feel as how Geralt treated Jaskier when they were first setting out on their adventures together.</p><p>As usual, PLEASE PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS !!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason had spent almost the entire night cleaning the wounds on the man's back and chest, arm and legs (dirt and debris had stuck to them, along with the oozing blood, and he knew they could get infected and suppurate if left to themselves), washing off the blood (thankfully the bleeding did not take long to stem, despite the depths of some of the wounds), applying topical penicillin ointments (praying that they work on the man's alien system). The bite-wound required special attention -- draining the reeking pus and the blackened blood from the swollen area, he bathed the wound in povidone iodine and saline water, and rubbed a soothing antiseptic cream on it. </p><p>No bone in the rib-cage or elsewhere seemed broken, nor did the sounds coming from the man's lungs seem wet. Jason decided that the lungs were free of fluid and blood, and since (much to his surprise) the purple bruises on the man's abdomen started to become fainter, taking on more of a yellowish hue as the hours dragged on, he concluded that perhaps, hopefully, there would be no immediate need to rush the victim to the hospital on account of internal bleeding.</p><p>He had meant to spend the night awake and ready by his alien patient's side, despite his utterly drained body screaming at him for some rest. With that in mind, he had settled deep into the other sofa, and to keep himself awake, started reading a medical journal that required a ton of focus (foregoing the comforting, welcoming pages of his fantasy novel). </p><p>Not unexpectedly, he had dozed off in the wee hours of the morning. And from that short and not-at-all-refreshing nap, he was jerked awake by the sound of a rather painfully drawn out sob.</p><p>Hastily throwing aside the journal lying atop his own recumbent form, he jumped to his feet and rushed to his patient's side. The eyes were still closed, but the man was crying. </p><p>Sobbing. Sobbing his heart out. </p><p>Jason's heart twisted in pain, looking down at the poor thing. Who knows what was going through his mind, even as his body was racked with the pain from multiple, grisly wounds...</p><p>The doctor placed a hand tentatively on the man's right hand that lay on his side, trying to reassure him as well as coax him to wakefulness. He had to check the man's eyes to make sure he was not anemic or anything. He whispered in what he hoped would be a soothing voice, "Hey, hey, it's okay, it's okay! Breathe! You're okay. You're fine."</p><p>A heartbeat later, the eyelids cracked open with some effort.</p><p>And (for some reason he could not fathom) with his heart in his mouth, Jason Coleridge stared down into the most beautiful, most entrancing eyes he had ever seen.</p><p>The orbs were of a fiery amber colour, and catching the sun-rays now filtering through the balcony's glass door, they seemed flecked with molten gold.</p><p>For a moment, the doctor felt he had been robbed of his voice. He tried to recover and speak, but before he could do so, the same word or name he had heard from the man in his state of pained stupor last night, fell again from the man's lips.</p><p>"Jaskier?!"</p><p>Except that now, it was more of a question than a lament.</p><p>Almost immediately, the man's eyes widened, and he croaked, much louder, "Jaskier!" in a voice that dripped with incredulous relief, and started to push himself off the bed with his elbows.</p><p>"No, no! Please, you mustn't try to get up so fast. Your body took a ton of beating. It's still healing. Please, go easy."</p><p>Jason placed his palms as gently yet assertively as possible on the man's (deliciously broad, if he was being honest with himself) shoulders, hoping to dissuade him from getting up and jostling his injuries further.</p><p>The man relented, and lay back down, but continued staring at Jason's face with a perplexed frown. Jason, by that time, had settled himself on the edge of the bed.</p><p>"Jaskier, you're alive? I was so ... I dreamed ... I feared I had lost you. But ..."</p><p>He reached out shakily and took one of Jason's hands in his own large, calloused palms. They easily enveloped Jason's much smaller hand, and the man held that hand as if it was something incredibly precious and yet breakable and fragile, right above his heart.</p><p>
  <i>Oh, those hands are so, so warm. I feel like I am melting.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Not to mention he is holding my hand right above his heart.</i>
</p><p>Jason mentally shook himself out of his (rather inappropriate, weren't they?) thoughts. He said, with a slightly belated smile, "Oh thank goodness, you speak English. I thought I might not be able to understand you..."</p><p>The man was still staring at him. But slowly, there was a change transpiring in his golden eyes.</p><p>What began as a concoction of palpable relief, exhilaration and adoration (<i>or was it love?</i>) was now getting replaced slowly by confusion, suspicion and something akin to fear (though for some reason, Jason found it <i>really<i> hard to imagine this particular man being afraid of anything in this universe).</i></i></p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With an abrupt and what seemed almost hostile movement, the man flung Jason's hand, clasped a moment earlier reverently in his own, away from himself.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And Jason's heart gave an involuntary twinge.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Who are you?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The words came out far harsher than the previous ones he had spoken.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Ah! Um, glad you asked. I am a doctor. My name is Jason Coleridge. It was I who..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Where am I?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Well, you came out of a..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"WHERE THE FUCK AM I? AND WHY ARE YOU WEARING MY JASKIER'S SKIN?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The bellow sounded like a deafening roar in the small apartment, with its shuttered windows and closed doors. Where a moment earlier, the deep rumbling of that bass voice was making Jason feel a pleasant sensation, now it caused him to violently flinch and almost recoil.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"You're in my home. I ... please ... I don't understand ... you just appeared through a ..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Before he could get another word out, a pair of vice-like hands were on his throat, constricting him. The man's face was now looming over him.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Are you a doppler? But I cannot sense the magic in you... what sort of dark magic did you use to take on my Jaskier's form? What have you done to my Jaskier?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Nothing but a choking sound emitted from the doctor's mouth. He struggled in vain to release himself.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"You smell all <i>wrong</i>. Not like any human I have ever met. What are you? SPEAK, NOW!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A gurgling that sounded like a "Please!" came out of the poor, twitching doctor's mouth.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man abruptly let go, but snarled, "Don't try any tricks, monster, or else I will crush that pretty neck of yours before you can change to your true form. Now, speak up!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>                                                                                ******************************************************************************</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt's chest rose and fell like the bellows in a blacksmith's forge, as an overwhelming sense of fear and almost blinding rage coursed through every fibre of his mutant being. If looks could kill, he was fairly sure the monster in front of him would die a horrible death in the molten fire of his gaze. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The creature lay there for a few moments, apparently weakened and subjugated (though Geralt doubted that -- it seemed to possess magic superior enough for the Witcher not to be able to sense it at all, and yet it had shape-shifted to look like Jaskier), its body crumpled sideways on the bed Geralt himself sat on. Slowly, it opened its eyes.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And Geralt could not help the lurch in his heart at the sight of those vivid cornflower-blue orbs.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I mean you no harm", it croaked in a human voice that so closely resembled Jaskier's, sounding pained and raspy from having its throat nearly crushed by Geralt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And hurt. It sounded hurt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  Again, Geralt ignored a twinge in his heart. He knew this was <i>not</i> Jaskier. He would be able to pick up Jaskier's smell anywhere, among a hundred different humans. This creature, in fact, smelled strange and mysterious to his hyper-sensitive nose -- unfamiliar and unlike what humans generally smelled like across the Continent.
</p><p>
  With what seemed like a painful effort, the thing sat back up straight. Then, looking Geralt straight in the eyes (<i>the nerve of it!!</i>), it spoke again. 
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Yesterday, what I can only presume was a portal opened up in my apartment, and you came tumbling through it. You were badly injured. I am a doctor. A healer, if that helps. I tended to and cleaned your wounds, and let you sleep on my sofa. You were unconscious all night."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It paused, drawing a deep breath.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I honestly have no idea where you have come from, who you are, how you got yourself in such a state. And I do not know who this Jaskier person is."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Another pause.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"And I am no monster."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With that, the creature pushed itself off the bed.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  Geralt kept his eyes trained on this mysterious -- man? -- lest he tried something funny. But the man -- uh, this <i>doctor</i>, did he say? -- only moved to the table that stood in front of the bed and uncovering a glass of water, brought it back to Geralt, to drink.
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Here. You're probably thirsty. You need to stay hydrated."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And it was the table that caught Geralt's attention. It looked utterly ... odd. Nothing like any furniture -- whether carved out of stone or wood -- he had seen in the Continent. It was made of wood polished to an almost sparkling surface -- unlike any he had witnessed in the Continent -- with a strange shade of brown and ochre and covered in weird, wavy patterns, topped with a very skillfully cut and polished sheet of glass. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
 From there, his eyes were unwittingly drawn to the rest of the room. It was strange, alright. <i>Very</i> strange. The walls -- what the heck were those made of? So smooth, but clearly not of stone. There was an upholstered couch in front of him, but looking very foreign in its shape and design and the material used in the upholstery. There were strange circular holes up in the ceiling, containing something he just couldn't gauge. To his left, there was a counter somewhat similar to that of a bar, but on the far side of it, stood a weird rectangular box, and several objects -- contraptions? -- that for the life of him he could not figure out the uses of.
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Perhaps the only familiar objects he could see, without further inspection, were the assortment of fruits sitting in a woven basket on the counter.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He turned his head to the right, and his eyes took a moment to adjust to the dazzling golden sunlight that was streaming through the glass door. Beyond the door, was a balcony lined with what seemed to be metal railings, and beyond that...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt of Rivia's mouth fell open of its own accord.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Where in the name of sweet Melitele was he?!</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  As far as his eyes could see (and they could see a <i>lot</i> farther than those of humans and most other humanoids, to be honest), a stupendously massive city stretched on. Rank after rank, rose what he could only guess were dwellings or buildings -- structures like nothing he had ever seen -- straight, vertical, smooth-walled with reflecting, rectangular or square glass windows, their spires reaching to impossible heights (he seriously doubted whether at least some of them would <i>not</i> put Kaer Morhen to shame). There were slightly shorter buildings interspersing with the taller ones, but all were impressive, and all looking rather severe. The horizon was completely obscured by this seemingly endless array of edifices.
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Closer at hand, he could see a very broad, very strange looking high road. There were people (looking like crawling ants from this distance) on the road, and ...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>... weird things -- like somewhat flattened boxes that had been bent to have strange angles and planes and slopes, mounted on what he thought were wheel-like disc-shaped structures, rushing down the road at speeds easily double or even treble the speed of the fastest horse he had ever seen in the Continent !</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>What the heck?!</i>
    </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Um, if you are done gaping at the skyline..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>That voice again. Geralt gave a startled jump, despite himself, and brought his focus back to the man next to his bedside.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His captor. Or was he? Given what Geralt was witnessing with his own eyes, perhaps this man was speaking the truth. Then again, it was possible that a superior mage could cast some sort of glamour, create an illusion. Geralt would have to wait and find out more ... touch the things he was seeing and test them. And for that, he would have to wait for the right opportunity.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"... please, you need to drink some water."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The Witcher tried to ignore the slight note of beseeching in the man's voice mingled with hurt. Taking the glass, he sniffed it suspiciously. Nothing amiss that his mutant nose could detect.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man let out an exasperated sigh.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"If I did intend to poison you, I really would not bother staying up all night and nursing you back to health."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt threw the man a final searching look, before gulping down the water in one go. He was very thirsty, after all, and his parched throat instantly felt better.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man took back the empty glass, setting it down on the floor. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Do you ... would you mind if I sat down next to you?", the tone was hesitant, perhaps even a little afraid.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt's heart clenched a bit, but paying it no heed, he just grunted his acquiescence.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  The man sat down on the edge of the bed (a <i>sofa</i>, did he say?).
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Are you in any pain? I would like to continue the medications to make sure you recover fully, if you permit me to, but at the moment, if you feel alright..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Yes." A curt, almost dismissive, affirmation.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Okay, good, yeah. Um ... I had to tear open your ... uh ... shirt and breeches ... to attend to your wounds. I can give you some of my clothes. And ..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What the hell is this place?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man sighed again. "Uh, it's London. It's a city, in our world. In a country known as the United Kingdom."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What's your name?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Jason. Jason Coleridge."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Have you been in contact with Yennefer? Or Triss?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What? Uh, no ... I do not know these people."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Huh. Funny how they ended up sending me here."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"They sent you here? Are they also the people who attacked you?", asked the man, gesturing towards his scarred chest.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt gave an annoyed grunt. "NO! That was ... someone else. You said you are a healer. You wield magic?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>For some reason, the man, who had been so far fidgeting underneath Geralt's fiery gaze, suddenly chuckled. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Uh, no, not at all. In our world, there is no ... magic. At least, I think not in the sense you would define magic."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"So you use herbs and medicinal plants?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Medicines derived from many sources, including extracts from plants. And for surgeries, there are many instruments and electronic appliances."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man seemed to visibly perk up while talking about his profession. The phrase "electronic appliances" seemed totally foreign to Geralt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I take it you have no idea how to return me to my world, healer?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Uh, no. Sorry", came the small, somewhat timid answer.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>                                                                                          ****************************************************************************</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason hated the resigned and vexed expression on his patient's face, despite his nerves being still rattled by the completely unforeseen assault that he had launched on the doctor, almost throttling him. Besides, his curiosity was getting the better of him.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"May I know your name?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man let out a low growl, and Jason had to squash the urge to run out the room. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Geralt. Geralt of Rivia."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Hi, Geralt. It is ... nice to meet you."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A few seconds of silence.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Um, let me fetch some clothes for you. Are you hungry?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt looked up from his brooding towards Jason. "Why are you helping me?", he gruffly asked.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason rose from the sofa, a small smile on his lips, and he gave the same answer he always gave to strangers who wondered aloud why he was being helpful to them.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Why not?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man -- Geralt -- said nothing as his eyes continued to search Jason's face.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Wait here while I get the clothes", he added, before walking towards his bedroom.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He chose the largest, baggiest pairs of sweatpants and the most over-sized sweatshirt his wardrobe possessed, hoping they would be enough. Geralt was a big man, after all.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Here. You can change here. I am going to be in the kitchen. I'll make breakfast", with that, he turned away.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>In the kitchen, he busied himself with taking out pots and pans, the egg carton and milk and butter from the refrigerator. He could hear the swish and rustle of clothes behind him, and unable to help himself, he sneaked a look.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>Oh, those muscles! That back! Those flowing braids of silver-white hair that are cascading down on to impossibly broad shoulders, between those shoulder blades! Those scars that surely bear testimony to the heroic deeds he has accomplished...</i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With monumental effort, Jason forced himself to turn back to his pancakes, blushing a deep shade of magenta. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>Stupid heart, stop racing!</i>
  </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>When he was sure that Geralt was fully dressed, he turned to the man.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Would like to take a shower before breakfast?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt looked at him with narrowed eyes, then let out a deep, rolling "Hmm."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Okay. Uh, the bathroom's this way."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He led the man to the bathroom, and showed him how to work the bathtub faucets, and the soaps and shampoos that lined the tub. Taking a fresh, downy towel (the downiest he possessed) from the cupboard, he handed it to Geralt.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Uh, if you need anything, just holler. And, uh, you lock the door like this."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Back in the kitchen, he made sure to add some extra butter to the pancakes, and some additional dollops of clotted cream and raspberry jam on the side. A snide voice in the back of his head sniggered.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>You would never bother to make such an elaborate breakfast for yourself.</i>
  </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason ignored it studiously.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The omelette was almost done by the time Geralt came back to the living room, looking decidedly more alive and fresh (and smelling oh-so-sweet ... <i>stop that thought right there!</i>). He inhaled deeply of the aroma of food now permeating through the entire room, but said nothing. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason inwardly smiled, then set the breakfast platter on the counter. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Here. Please have a seat on one of those chairs. Would you like a side of avocado?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt frowned. "Avocado?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason nearly beamed. "Here, I'll cut one up, and give you a wedge to taste. See if you like it."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt sat down, and inspected the food with slightly widened eyes. That same niggling voice inside Jason's head worried whether the food was enough for the big man, and whether he would like it.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Then he dove in.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With his bare hands.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason tried not to stare, as the man devoured the food with a measure of voraciousness hard to match. He had clearly been ravenous. And probably suspicious of the steel cutlery Jason had placed on the side of the plate.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason offered him a slice of avocado. He took it, took a bite ...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>... let out a deep "Mmmm..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason suppressed a laugh. "So, would you want some more?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Yes", a small hesitant pause, "If ... that's alright."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Of course."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>After breakfast (Jason had yet to eat ... so immersed in taking care of this strange, yet somehow endearing, man was he), he led Geralt back to the sofa-bed.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Rest a bit. The coffee's on."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Cof--fee...?", said Geralt, the name rolling off his tongue a strange way.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Coffee", confirmed Jason with an affectionate smile. "Hopefully, you will like it."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>                                                                                                      *********************************************************************</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  If he were being completely honest with himself, Geralt would have admitted that the steaming hot bath felt very, very good. Not to mention the citrus-smelling soap and shampoo (<i>sham-poooo</i> -- his tongue enjoyed uttering the word, in a rare moment of child-like wonder) that made him feel so much cleaner afterwards.
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And he had been famished. He had not realized so until the moment he had smelled the food. And boy, did it taste good! Absolutely divine! </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Wherever the heck he was at the moment, they knew how to achieve some truly commendable culinary feats.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The healer, Jason (the word "doctor" still sounded so weird and foreign to him, and less soothing than "healer"), brought him, on a tray, a steaming mug of something very dark, with a fragrance that almost overwhelmed Geralt's mutant nose. Sharp, yet not unpleasant at all. Setting the tray down on the strange table Geralt had earlier seen, and then pushing the table over to the bed-side, Jason sat down next to him and spoke.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"So, there's warmed milk in that small pot, and some sugar cubes in this jar here. You can drink the coffee black, or you can add as much milk, or sugar, or both, to it as you wish. Here's the spoon for stirring."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt gingerly took one sip from the proffered mug.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It was a heady feeling. The taste was sharp and bitter yet extremely rejuvenating, and he felt it shoot through his taste buds. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"So, you want to tell me something about your world?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt looked at the man in front of him.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Eyes alight with curiosity and excitement, an expectant smile dancing on those lips.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>Oh, Jaskier! This face ... oh, my Jaskier ... </i>
    </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And just like that, the taste of coffee turned acrid and ashen in his mouth.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The healer, it seemed, was oblivious to the effect his face had on Geralt, though.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Were you in a battle before you, you know...", he waved his hands in the air vaguely, "Teleported to our world? Are you a knight? A prince? You look like one of those..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"A Witcher", Geralt's gruff voice cut off the senseless chatter instantly. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"A Witch--cher..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I kill monsters."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Wow! That sounds so ... grand!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"It isn't."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A small pause.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Who's Jaskier? Do I look like him?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt glared at this talkative stranger. Anger flared up in his stomach.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"My betrothed", he said through gritted teeth.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Oh!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His eyes didn't miss the way the healer's face fell ever so slightly.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"You must miss him. I -- I am sure there will be some way for you to return to your world..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt knew empty words of comfort when he heard them. In this case, even he, imbued with magic as he was, did not know how to make it back to his world. Could not even feel the faintest line of connection with his own universe, his people. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Somehow, though, his anger bubbled up even more, all directed at this annoying, inquisitive stranger who (he knew deep down) had played no part in bringing him to this alien world.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Uh, so, who else do you have, back home? Parents? Siblings?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt closed his eyes, praying for patience.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"My home and my life do not concern you, healer", he spat out.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The healer immediately recoiled, as if scalded, and Geralt once again felt the uncomfortable sting of guilt and pain in his heart.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Would you like to take a nap? I can give you some medications to help with the healing, though I must say you recover exceedingly fast."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt grunted, not bothering to even look at the man.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>                                                                                       *********************************************************************************</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>When he woke up, it was late afternoon, judging by the colours streaking the sky visible through the balcony door. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Judging that it was safe enough to take the pills (or so the healer called those little blue-and-white things he swallowed with water) given that the healer had not tried to harm him so far, he had accepted the medication, and also the offer of rest afterwards. His exhausted, pummeled body had needed that rest, and he was silently grateful for the way he felt almost back to his normal strength and stamina now.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Cautiously getting off the bed, he looked around. The annoying, chattering healer was nowhere to be seen, and he inwardly relaxed -- not having to see that face was, honestly, a relief. At the same time, a small voice in his mind reminded him that perhaps without this man, he would be vulnerable to new and strange kinds of perils in this foreign world.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His eyes landed on the small piece of paper stuck to the door. A note.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Hi Geralt, I am going out to fetch some groceries. Please help yourself to some tea from the teapot on the counter, and some biscuits. I have left the cup and the biscuit jar out. And there are fruits. Be back soon."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Hmm.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Whether it was possible for him to escape this universe or not, he must try to know as much as possible about it. May be he would find a clue. Being cooped up in this weird apartment would do him no good. Besides, this would also be a chance to see if he was being held captive.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His swords and a shorter knife were lying next to his armour, on the other sofa. The armour was damaged beyond use, but the weapons all glittered evilly, their edges still sharp enough to fight many battles before they needed to be whetted. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He picked up the short knife, covered in its sheath. Unlatching the door (the mechanism was similar to that in the bathroom), he warily stepped outside, fearing some sort of ward, magical or otherwise, to prevent him from leaving. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Nothing. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He found himself in a dimly lit, carpeted corridor, lined with doors on either side. No one was around.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Closing the apartment door with a soft click behind him, he started to prowl down the corridor.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There was a soft ding right ahead, and one set of doors (these ones looked strange -- with a shining silvered surface) opened. Geralt frantically sought some recess in the wall to hide himself, but there was none.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Out stepped a couple of people: a man dressed in attire similar to that of the healer, and a woman dressed in ...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Pants?! Those were not riding breeches, he was sure. Women dressed like men here?</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The couple stopped their chatter mid-sentence to stare curiously at him, and walked past him without any greeting.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He continued his walk down the length of the corridor, trying to calm himself down from the shock and fear of running into something or someone inimical. Not a single door was open, nor did any budge when he pushed at them with all his weight. Perhaps they needed keys? Some unknown spell?</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Another ding. Geralt turned around to see those same set of silver doors slide open and this time, three people stepped out of it.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Unable to squash his curiosity, he edged closer to those doors. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The phenomenon was repeated twice more. Each time, the doors opened and a couple of people stepped out. They either did not notice him, or ignored him completely.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The third time, he stood right next to the doors, and cautiously peered in.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>It was a tiny, rectangular room, its walls made of some sort of thoroughly polished material that reflected light. It was completely empty.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Urged on by some instinct, Geralt stepped into that narrow space.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And the doors slid shut.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He had the barest time to land a single blow on the door to force it open when he realized, with a pang of fear, that the floor on which he stood had just given an odd shudder, and now he was feeling weightless as the room ...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>... moved.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>
      <i>What the hell!</i>
    </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Open!", he bellowed, "Open the doors, NOW!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>No one answered him. A moment later, with a lurch, the room came to a halt, and the doors slid open again.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>In stepped a young woman with a pretty face. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt almost sprinted out of the room.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The woman stood there, eyes wide.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Hi, are you okay?", her voice sounded concerned, as Geralt stood in a corridor similar to the one he had left, panting slightly.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What -- what is this thing?", he couldn't keep out the tremor from his voice as he gestured at the moving room.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The woman stared at him like he had suddenly grown a pair of horns. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Uh, this? This is a lift. An elevator."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Made no sense.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The woman tried again. "Uh, for going up and down the building? You, uh, you want to come downstairs?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt just stared. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>What on earth was she on about? Where the heck are the STAIRS?</i>
    </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The woman smiled with what Geralt's befuddled mind distantly registered as sympathy. "May be you are claustrophobic? How about I show you where the stairs are?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>She did. Geralt thanked her curtly, and started climbing down.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>                                                                                                 ******************************************************************************</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason was walking down the pavement, his right arm slightly numb with the weight of the bulging grocery paper-bag he carried. He was understandably distracted, his mind refusing to dwell on anything but the tall, pale, nearly irresistibly handsome alien stranger who had taken up residence in his humble abode.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>There you go again. Thinking of him that way. Come on, the man's frigging engaged to someone.</i>
</p><p>
      <i>Someone who looks like you. Not to mention that Geralt has no way, as yet, of making his way out of this world. In other words, he has no way of escaping YOU.</i>
</p><p>
  Ah, that stupid, annoying voice again. <i>Shut up! He is my patient! I am never taking advantage of him like that...</i>
</p><p>
      <i>Yeah yeah... but what if he falls for you? Then what?</i>
   </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason inwardly slapped himself. He was preparing to give himself a long pep talk on the morality of such thoughts when...</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>His eyes landed on a tall man.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>With long, flowing silver hair.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Exiting the doors of his building.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And heading straight towards the (extremely busy, despite it being a Saturday) street.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Geralt!", his panicked voice sounded shrill and far too thin to penetrate the din around them and reach Geralt, "Fuck! GERALT!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt heard him.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Looked at him with those piercing gold eyes.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>And with a sprint, landed on to the street from the sidewalk.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"NO! Geralt, it's too dangerous!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Through the corner of his eye, he saw the Mercedes-Benz Sprinter speeding towards his unwary alien guest.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"GERALT!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>A second later, his hands grabbed onto Geralt's arm and pulled, with every ounce of strength he could muster.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The big van hurtled past the spot where, a couple of seconds ago, Geralt had stood.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Both men were now on the pavement, righting themselves from nearly losing their balance and toppling over. Both were panting.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
One with the fear of nearly losing his -- <i>new friend?</i> -- patient to a terrible road accident.
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The other with barely contained rage.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"What do you think you were doing?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Escaping!", Geralt snarled.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"From where? Whom?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"You! And this thrice-damned world!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Jason took a deep, steadying breath, and tried to swallow past the sudden lump that had formed in his throat.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Geralt", he said, "Please, I mean you no harm. I understand that this is extremely difficult, confusing and disorienting for you, my friend. But until and unless you figure out how to make it back to your world, my world is not safe for you to wander alone. You are completely unaware of what dangers may befall you here."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I am not your friend, healer."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>Boy, did that hurt...</i>
    </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Very well. Not a friend. But at least a well-wisher? I have taken care of you this one whole day, Geralt. Do I deserve a tiny bit of your trust?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The beautiful, noble face stayed silent, glowering down at the pavement.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Would you please, please come up to my apartment? Talk this through? Please?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Perhaps it was the desperate plea in his voice that finally got through to the man. Perhaps it was something else. Whatever it was, after what seemed like an eternity, he nodded.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Thank you. May I ask you to help me pick up all the food I dropped in my mad rush to save you?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>                                                                                                                        ******************************************************************</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>By the time they were back in the apartment, it was growing dark. Geralt watched with fascination, despite himself, how the healer flicked some weird little protruding things on the wall with his fingers and immediately, the holes he had earlier noticed in the ceiling above came aglow with a soft golden light.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Electricity", the healer explained with forced cheerfulness, "It is a form of energy. Much like light, and heat, and sound."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt ignored him. He went to sit on the sofa-bed he had occupied earlier.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The annoying healer followed him to the sofa and plopped down.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>There was something shimmering in his hand : a square package of some kind, with a glossy exterior. He held it out with an encouraging smile.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"It's chocolate. A kind of, um, sweet snack."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Are you trying to bribe me, healer?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The man gaped at him with an incredulous stare, then tiredly rubbed his face.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Geralt", he sounded exasperated, "Why? What would I get out of bribing you?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"My magic? My powers? May be you want me to slay your rivals?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"No!", for the first time, the healer sounded impatient, "No, Geralt. I really, truly, want nothing from you. I just want you to ... be safe and sound and healthy. And I am just trying to make you feel at home in a world that is completely foreign to you."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  Geralt eyed him intently. <i>He does sound sincere. But can he really be trusted?</i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Look, let's try to figure out a solution together. Shall we?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>No answer.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  "You mentioned <i>your</i> magic. Have you, uh, tried to summon said magic in this world? See if it works?"
</p><p>
      <i>Well, hmm, that is not really a bad idea.</i>
    </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt stood up from the bed, then walked to the door. Muttering the requisite spell in Elder Speech, he placed his palm on the smooth wood surface of the door and pushed. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Nothing.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He tried again. And again.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Sighing, he walked back to the bed. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Well? What was that supposed to do?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Let me through the door, without opening it."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Wow!"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Silence followed. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Hmm. Since it did not work..."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt felt trapped. He felt like howling, like a feral, wild predator confined in a small, stifling cage.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>Oh, and this voice! This healer's voice! How it tortured him... how it reminded him of what he had left behind, perhaps for good...</i>
  </p><p>
      <i>Oh how he wished he could silence this man forever ... strangle him while he slept ... </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I am sure there will be some other way. I know that right now, you feel scared and disappointed, perhaps even dejected. But I promise that somehow, in time, something will work out."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
 Geralt willed himself to try and block out that voice. <i>That voice!</i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Right now, though, you need your strength and vitality, to keep going. And to keep thinking of new ideas. And I am here to help", the healer continued brightly, "I let you skip lunch as you were in a deep sleep, but I bet you're looking forward to dinner, yes? I shall make some salmon teriyaki for you, with roasted veggies and steamed rice on the side. I bet you will love it."</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He left the chocolate right next to Geralt's pillow. Then stood up, the smile still stretching his lips.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"Let's make sure to keep you all fed until you can make it back to your Jaskier's arms, yes?"</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Geralt silently looked up at the man. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>He would not have been surprised if the hatred and fury that shone in his eyes had stricken the man dead right then and there.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
      <i>Or burned down that face, that body -- that image that only brought him pain, reminding him of his wounded, dying Jaskier... Oh how he wished he could just turn this man -- this creature -- into ashes...</i>
    </p><p>
  <i>
    <i>The healer's smile faltered, then he visibly withered in front of that gaze. His face drooped, eyes downcast. </i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Did those lips wobble a bit?</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>Must be Geralt seeing things.</i>
  </i>
</p><p>
  <i>
    <i>"I'll go prepare dinner", the healer said softly, before leaving Geralt to his own tumultuous thoughts.</i>
  </i>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. You keep building ice walls -- I'll keep stoking my fire to melt it away, bit by bit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay, I know it's weird that I am updating so fast, but 1) this story is building itself up in my heart and I can't rest without letting it out, with all the plot twists and emotions and connections between characters, and 2) it's frigging summer holidays and frigging Covid lockdown, so please, bear with this mad rush of updates LOL :-D </p><p>Jason finds it exceedingly difficult to thaw the ice around Geralt's heart, but much like Jaskier, he simply refuses to give up. Meanwhile, Geralt is able to establish a tenuous communication with Yennefer, Vesemir and others through his dreams. Jason proposes Geralt join him on a pre-planned trip to his adoptive parents' home, for a week. Will Geralt agree? Will the two unlikely roommates warm up to each other just the tiniest bit?</p><p>PLEEEEEEEEEEEEASE REVIEW !!</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason couldn't remember if he had ever had a longer and more tiring Sunday.</p><p>The night before, following a quiet, even somewhat tense dinner consisting of Geralt scowling at the food like it had done him some personal wrong and Jason throwing him apprehensive, if a little pained, glances, they had retired -- Jason in his own bedroom and Geralt on the sofa-bed, after Jason had entreated to Geralt to not step outside the apartment in the dead of the night, when the dangers he might face would be significantly greater. Geralt hadn't even spared him a glance, instead punching the pillow into a more comfortable shape and lying down, back turned to Jason.</p><p>The next morning, Jason woke up to find Geralt already wide awake, and out on the balcony, glass door slid shut behind him. He sat on the floor of the balcony with his knees drawn up and arms hugging himself, staring out into the distance.</p><p>Jason felt a sharp pang in his heart. The man seemed so lost, so vulnerable, despite the defiant anger that surrounded him like a wall. And Jason was being no help at all.</p><p>If Geralt heard Jason in the living room, he didn't bother to show any sign whatsoever. The doctor shuffled to the kitchen, looking and feeling more disheveled than he usually did after a full night's sleep.</p><p>Not that last night's sleep had been anything close to restful.</p><p>Jason had deliberately kept the door to his bedroom ajar, in case he needed to rush to his patient's side. And through that door, repeated sounds had reached his ears, punctuating his sleep.</p><p>Sobs. Muffled, yet loud enough in the quiet of his apartment. Heavy, laboured breathing, and sniffles, and the obvious effort to suppress them. Occasional groans and sighs that sounded like "Jaskier!" and "Ciri!".</p><p>More than once, Jason had almost itched to run to Geralt, put an arm around him, lull him to sleep. </p><p>But he had stopped himself at the last moment.</p><p>Jason was no fool. He had seen, and recognized, the look that was not just filled with mistrust, but something disturbingly like disgust and fury and thinly veiled animosity Geralt had cast him every time. </p><p>Every time, except for those very first few blissful moments when Geralt's foggy brain had been under the impression that Jason was Jaskier.</p><p>Jason could not help the anguish he felt because of something that was totally beyond his control -- how he looked.</p><p>Tiredly, he set the saucepan on the stove and started preparing some oatmeal.</p><p>A half hour later, Jason tapped on the glass sliding door, then pushed it open.</p><p>"Good morning, Geralt!"</p><p>No response. Not even a nod in acknowledgement.</p><p>"I, uh, prepared some breakfast. Do you want me to bring it here to you?"</p><p>Wordlessly, the hulking man stood up, then pushed past Jason straight to the kitchen counter.</p><p>Jason hastily reached the counter and handed him his bowl (heaped with several extra handfuls of blueberries, strawberries and raspberries that he had made sure to bring from the grocery store last evening, and a generous dollop of creamy almond butter), along with a glass of orange juice.</p><p>"Please, make yourself comfortable."</p><p>They sat in silence, with nothing but the clatter of spoons to accompany them. Somehow, it put Jason even more on edge.</p><p>Geralt simply refused to look at him. And whereas he ate every morsel from the bowl, there was nothing even remotely like the enthusiasm with which he had eaten breakfast the morning before.</p><p>After breakfast, the Witcher simply pushed off his bowl and glass, stood up, and walked back to the balcony, slamming the door shut behind him.</p><p>
  <em>Great! Amazing!</em>
</p><p>Jason tiredly washed the bowls and the saucepan. He briefly wondered if he should ask Geralt about coffee, but then decided against it. He could see Geralt sitting with his head bowed, the strange medallion (with the fascinating wolf engraving) that he constantly wore around his neck clutched in his hands, lips muttering something too low for Jason to be able to hear. Probably trying again to summon his magic through some spells, Jason surmised. </p><p>Grabbing the biscuit jar, he walked back to his bedroom, keeping the door open a sliver, and curled up in his bed with the fantasy novel pressed to his chest.</p><p>And tried not to cry.</p><p>Past mid-morning, he tiptoed out to go to the bathroom. </p><p>And found Geralt sitting on the sofa-bed, brooding, the sweatshirt doffed.</p><p>It was admittedly rather warm outside. Summer was here, although some days, the evenings got cold and rainy.</p><p>As Jason had inwardly come to expect, the Witcher totally ignored him.</p><p>It was all very ... new to Jason.</p><p>Not, of course, having an alien teleported to his living room. That went without saying. And Jason knew, deep down, he was handling the shock of it incredibly well.</p><p>No, not that.</p><p>It was how he was completely, utterly, probably irrevocably shut out by Geralt.</p><p>Jason had always been someone who had an uncanny knack and skill in breaking down ice. With almost anyone. Ever since he had met his adoptive family. It didn't matter whether the person was a complete stranger sitting next to him on an airplane, a nervous and sometimes cranky patient at the hospital, a difficult adopted sibling, the man or woman helping him out with his groceries at the store, the bus driver he stood next to just before getting off at his stop, a random co-passenger in the tube. He could and often would strike up conversations, and within minutes, totally win over the person he was talking to, easily coaxing smiles and banter, sometimes even thoughtful discussions on deep topics, out of them. </p><p>But not Geralt.</p><p>Geralt had an ice castle built around his heart. Invincible, unbreakable, radiating a cruel cold that kept Jason's warm, kind, yearning heart at bay.</p><p>
  <em>Boy, why does it hurt so much?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You know why.</em>
</p><p>That voice again.</p><p>
  <em>Shut up. I ought not to even bother with him. He is going to leave soon, if all goes well.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You and I both know you will continue to fret and cluck over him like a mother hen, so please, stop pretending.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shut up!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Besides, it's not like you actually want him gone. So, if all goes well, the glowering brute will be stuck with you for far longer than...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>SHUT UP!</em>
</p><p>As if to make a point of how <em>little</em> he cared about the stupid man and his stupid brooding, Jason almost stomped to the kitchen, and started brewing coffee.</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he noted Geralt's eyes following his feet, but never once rising above his ankles.</p><p>
  <em>Amazing!</em>
</p><p>He resolutely walked up to Geralt with the tray.</p><p>"Coffee", he tried to say in as clipped a tone as he could manage. It sounded petulant and childish even to his ears.</p><p>The man's eyes flicked up to his face with a scorching gaze, then flicked to the coffee mug. He picked it up, with not a single word of thanks.</p><p>Jason cradled his own coffee and went to sit down on the other sofa.</p><p>Silence.</p><p>
  <em>You are afraid of him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No, you horse's arse, I am NOT!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He directs one glare at you, and you scurry away like a mouse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>SHUT. UP.</em>
</p><p>Clearing his throat, Jason willed himself to speak, keeping his eyes averted.</p><p>"Did you, uh, figure anything out?"</p><p>A moment of silence. Then, a terse, guttural "No."</p><p>"Is there any way I can help?"</p><p>"Yes. Leave me alone."</p><p>Jason felt like someone had slapped him. He could feel tears pricking his eyes.</p><p>Silently, he rose from the sofa and left.</p><p>                                                                                                      **************************************************************************</p><p>Lunchtime came and went. Jason stepped out of the bedroom, discovered that Geralt had taken up his earlier position in the balcony with back turned towards him, and walked to the kitchen to whip up some pasta with veggies, herbs and cheese. Once the simple meal was prepared, he left a bowl of it on the coffee table, next to a refilled glass of water. It was time to return to his bedroom, again.</p><p>It was late afternoon when he finally kicked off the covers and sat up on his bed, studiously ignoring the ache behind his eyes and the tear-tracks that had dried on his cheeks. With gentle hands, he picked up the rubab from its case right next to the bed, and (noting that the instrument was already tuned) set about playing the first few notes of a melancholy, heart-wrenching dirge.</p><p>He had not played for more than a few minutes when the door of his bedroom flew open, interrupting the plaintive melody. </p><p>Geralt stood there, and (Jason wasn't sure how it was possible) he looked even angrier, more miserable, more wretched than he did before, his eyes trained on the rubab in Jason's lap.</p><p>"You play?"</p><p>Jason was not sure what to make of such a reaction. And his heart was still hurting from all the rebuffs of the past two days.</p><p>"Yes. Why?"</p><p>Geralt stayed silent for a while, and Jason wondered if this would be the end of the conversation, and the alien man would storm out of the room, leaving him alone. Again.</p><p>"Do you also sing?"</p><p>
  <em>Where the heck is this conversation going?</em>
</p><p>"Yes, sometimes."</p><p>"Jaskier was a bard."</p><p>The answer was almost blurted out, or so it seemed to Jason.</p><p>He did notice the tense used in the sentence, and it made him frown a bit. But he was still rather confused about this entire situation, and a small part of him urged him to somehow hold on to this line -- this line that Geralt had just thrown him. </p><p>"Would you ... would you like me to play for you?"</p><p>Geralt didn't answer. Instead, the man stared brokenly down at the floor.</p><p>Jason had to quash the urge -- no, the need -- to run to the big man's side and hug him.</p><p>Slowly, Geralt slid down the door frame and slumped on to the floor, still silent.</p><p>Jason couldn't quite tell what it was that prompted him to continue to play. He didn't know if he was doing more harm than good. Didn't know if it was better to not be even more of a reminder of Geralt's lost betrothed than he already was thanks to his appearance.</p><p>The rubab, as usual, came alive under his dexterous ministrations. It was a melody he had learned from an Egyptian once -- a lament that spoke of lost love and pain and bereavement all set in the backdrop of a far-off land, amidst the blazing sands of a massive desert.</p><p>By the time he had finished, the sun was setting.</p><p>His guest still sat by his bedroom door, tears running down his eyes.</p><p>Something shattered in Jason's poor heart.</p><p>"Geralt?", he asked, very softly.</p><p>He hadn't expected an answer. But it came, however low and nearly inaudible.</p><p>"Thank you!"</p><p>                                                                                 *************************************************************************************</p><p>Dinner was still a quiet affair. But the miasma of tension and misplaced anger that hung above the two unlikely roommates seemed to lessen a tiny bit.</p><p>Jason knew he could wait no longer, and must broach upon an important topic.</p><p>"Geralt, I, uh, need to tell you something."</p><p>The only sign that Geralt had heard him was the pause in the movements of his fork.</p><p>"Tuesday, that is to say, two days from now, I am supposed to leave for the countryside. To be with my adoptive family. We do this every year during summer, for about a week."</p><p>He knew Geralt was waiting.</p><p>"It's in a different town, quite a bit far from this one. Would you, uh, like to join me?"</p><p>There was now a frown on Geralt's face, and his face tilted just a bit upwards, eyes still totally averted from Jason's face.</p><p>"If you agree to come, then we can both go. And I think it will be fun. I hardly know anything about your world, but perhaps a city as massive and busy and technology-driven as London is not something you are used to, yes? May be you will love the countryside -- it's very beautiful and serene."</p><p>He wondered if he would at least be rewarded with a grunt.</p><p>"If you absolutely refuse, I shall cancel my trip. We can stay here. No problem."</p><p>"I'll think about it."</p><p>Brusque, terse, dismissive. Yet, it was a verbal answer. Jason inwardly patted his own shoulder for making this minuscule progress.</p><p>                                                                         *******************************************************************************</p><p>
  <em>At first, there were only indistinct voices. Whispers in the thick smoke that surrounded him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His amber eyes tried to penetrate the murk, but couldn't. His legs were stuck to the ground, and he flailed around trying to feel anything he could with his outstretched hands.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Triss?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yennefer! Vesemir! Eskel! I found him!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt! You're okay!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Yen! Where's Ciri?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Ciri's safe. We're safe, Geralt."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Jaskier?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He knew the answer. He had known it from the moment he had knelt by his beloved's side as he lay twitching in the throes of death. But denial was all he had.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Until now.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a pause. Then Vesemir's deeper voice spoke from somewhere amidst the smoke.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt, I am so sorry, son. I am so, so sorry."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt doubled over in pain. A tortured whisper escaped his trembling lips, "Jaskier!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt, please! Please hang in there. We are trying to bring you back", Yen's voice urged.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Brother, you cannot give in to the pain right now. You know that I know what it feels like to lose a mate. But your daughter needs you. You have to stay strong, for her."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eskel was a man of few words, much like Geralt, but Geralt knew how deeply he cared for his friend and brother, and all those he deemed family.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt", Triss spoke again, "The only way for us to establish any connection with you is through the medallion, which connects to your subconscious. We are trying to pinpoint the exact location you are at, and this requires not just considering the dimensions of space, but also that of time."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"The calmer you stay, the less restive the medallion, and the clearer and less noisy the signal we get from it", Yennefer took up where Triss left off, "We need you to hang in there, stay safe, take care of yourself, never take off the medallion. We WILL bring you home."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I ... feel trapped, Yen."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I know. But please, keep your wits about you, my dearest oaf", she attempted to joke feebly while at the same time sounding close to tears.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt", Vesemir's voice echoed again, "As far as the medallion is letting us know, we can tell that you are currently in a safe enough place in that world. In safe company, whoever this person is. Don't let go of this individual. We trust that he or she will keep you safe until it is time to come home, son."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And should anything change, such as this person turning hostile towards you, or circumstances turning dangerous, the medallion will warn you. And we will warn you in your dreams, as well", Eskel finished.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"How long do you think it will take you? To get me out of here?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Hard to estimate. After pinpointing the coordinates, we have to find out the combination of spells that will not only open a portal, but also keep it stable long enough for you to escape."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Very well."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt, please be careful", implored Yen.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I promise. Will you please give my love to Ciri?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"We will. She misses you. And we miss you."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Come home soon, brother."</em>
</p><p>Geralt came awake. </p><p>And immediately felt how hot the medallion had become on his chest -- nearly scalding to the touch of any normal human. His mutant fingers touched it nonetheless, almost like a caress, and it slowly started to cool down. After a while, he drifted off into a much less troubled sleep.</p><p>The following morning, at breakfast, he cleared his throat, setting down his now-empty coffee mug.</p><p>"About the trip to the countryside..."</p><p>The healer's slender frame whirled around from where he stood washing dishes at the sink.</p><p>"I ... have decided to come. With you."</p><p>"You have?!"</p><p>Geralt hated having to watch that face split into an utterly euphoric smile.</p><p>
  <em>How do men who look like Jaskier find it in them to be always so frigging happy?</em>
</p><p>The healer nearly waltzed towards him, beaming. </p><p>"Thank you! Oh, I am so excited! Okay, this means we have a lot of prepping to do..."</p><p>"What the heck is 'prepping', healer?"</p><p>"Oh, I mean 'preparations', ha ha!", the human prattled on, "I think it would be perfect if I introduce you as a patient from my hospital who has lost all his memory. And we have to come up with a different name. 'Geralt' sounds, you know, kinda otherworldly."</p><p>Geralt raised an eyebrow, saying nothing.</p><p>"Uh, how about Garry?"</p><p>Geralt ignored him.</p><p>"And we need to get you clothes. Can you please stand?"</p><p>Geralt glared at the blabbering fool. <em>Does this thing ever SHUT UP?</em></p><p>"Why should I stand?"</p><p>"So I can size you up. I am pretty sure it would be impossible to drag you to a clothes store in the mall to buy new clothes for you."</p><p>Geralt couldn't decide if the puny human was jesting with him, and whether he should punch the audacious idiot into blessed silence, or simply pretend he didn't exist.</p><p>In the end, he shook his head and complied.</p><p>After a few moments, came a jubilant "Perfect!", and the man left the room.</p><p>                                                                                     ********************************************************************************</p><p>Walking home from the tube station, Jason felt nauseatingly nervous.</p><p>He had all but begged Geralt to stay put and not leave the apartment alone while he was away at the hospital, getting some last-moment tasks out of the way before setting out on the vacation he had been so looking forward to. And although the man had himself raised the topic and, however reluctantly, agreed to come with him, he still had serious doubts whether he would come home to an empty apartment, the Witcher long gone.</p><p>Well, there was only one way to find out.</p><p>Shaking off the nervousness that had been plaguing him throughout the day and was now quickly rising to a panic, he took out his cell phone and dialed a number.</p><p>"Hello? Lucy?"</p><p>"Hello? Oh, is that my Jas?"</p><p>"Ha ha, yes Ma. How are you?"</p><p>"I am happier than ever, you know why? Because I can't wait to see you dearies."</p><p>"Same here, Ma. I am setting out early tomorrow."</p><p>"Travel safe, my love."</p><p>"Uh, Ma? There's someone I am bringing with me ... a friend."</p><p>"What! A friend?", the voice on the other side of the phone became all mischievous and conspiratorial, "Are you sure he is <em>just</em> a friend, Jas?"</p><p>Jason had to suppress a snigger, as well as a weird, pleasant tingling in the stomach. "Yes, yes, just a friend. A patient, to be honest, though not mine. He ... has nowhere else to go, at the moment. I thought it would be nice to have him over."</p><p>"Of course, Jas! A friend of yours who has nowhere else to go has your home to come home to."</p><p>Yup, that was Lucy. And Jason knew where he got most of his personality traits from.</p><p>"Thank you, Ma! You're amazing, as ever."</p><p>"<em>You</em> are amazing."</p><p>Jason chuckled. "I'll see you tomorrow?"</p><p>"You bet, son."</p><p>                                                                                          *************************************************************************************</p><p>When he came home, Geralt was still there. Out on the balcony, eyes observing the city lights.</p><p>And a partially eaten chocolate bar lay enfolded in its torn wrappings on the sofa-bed.</p><p>                                                                                                              *************************************************************</p><p>Jason had expected that Geralt would look quite dashing in the figure-hugging plaid shirt (stripes of azure and navy blue on white) and the fitting, dark-blue jeans with the black leather belt he had handpicked -- he somehow had a more than reasonable amount of confidence in his being able to eyeball another man's shirt and trouser sizes, and his friends and family had often commended him on his choice of colours.</p><p>What he had not expected was how his stomach would be aflutter with an onslaught of butterflies, and how his knees would feel like they had turned into jello, as the Witcher stepped out of the bathroom.</p><p>The way the shirt accentuated the shoulders and the jeans the waist and the hips. The way the silken strands of silver-white hair contrasted with the shades of blue. The way those toned chest muscles and abs were visible underneath the fabric. The way those amber-gold eyes made that incredibly handsome face even more irresistible...</p><p>
  <em>STOP ACTING LIKE A LOVESICK MORON!</em>
</p><p>He resorted to jabbering about the trip in order to distract his mind (and his stupid eyes from swiveling towards dangerous territories). </p><p>"So, since you do not have a passport, or any identity proof on you, I figured we would have to forego the train journey. Not to mention the two huge swords you have forced me to pack -- the police would never allow us to board with those. Marvelous view, by the way, that you would be missing", he clicked his tongue in regret, "But I am a decent driver, and there's a lovely route. Very picturesque. So we would go rent a car and drive out of the bustle of this city and then ta-daaaa! We'd be out amidst idyllic bucolic landscapes in no time!"</p><p>Shouldering his bag, he picked up a smaller, square bag made of stiff fabric and handed it to Geralt.</p><p>"I put the rest of the clothes I purchased for you in there, along with a toothbrush and spare toothpaste. I can show you how to use those, once we reach my home."</p><p>Geralt took the proffered bag. The first word of the morning had yet to escape his lips.</p><p>But it was hard to snub Jason's excitement right now. Oh, he was so looking forward to this trip!</p><p>Out of the corner of his eye, he watched with his heart doing a tiny somersault as Geralt picked up the half-eaten chocolate bar, and shoved it inside the bag.</p><p>Finally, it was time to leave. Jason gingerly picked up his rubab case, and stepped out of the apartment.</p><p>"What's it called?"</p><p>Ah. The first three words of this morning. Not bad, not bad...</p><p>"It's a rubab. Or a rabab. An ancient instrument. Originates from the deserts of ... well ...", Jason trailed off, suddenly realizing Geralt had no idea where Asia is.</p><p>The Witcher did not ask him to elaborate.</p><p>"Ah, here's a pair of shades I bought for you. Goggles", he handed Geralt the item. The man took it, and stared at it without the slightest comprehension.</p><p>"Here, this is how you wear them."</p><p>And reaching up, Jason tenderly, softly settled the goggles on the bridge of Geralt's nose, taking care to brush the strands of hair around his ears out of the way.</p><p>He knew Geralt was holding his breath. So stiff and rigid his frame had gone from utter shock.</p><p>Jason removed his hands, and stood, squirming a little.</p><p>"Uh, it's meant to protect your eyes from the sun."</p><p>Silence.</p><p>Without a word, Geralt marched past him towards the elevator doors.</p><p>                                                                             ****************************************************************************************</p><p>At the rental station, Jason took out a map of the UK, and spread it out on the car's windshield.</p><p>He knew Geralt was basically a bit overwhelmed (not that the Witcher would ever admit that) -- what with traveling in a moving, underground, serpentine chain of linked metal boxes, demonstrations by Jason of what feats a smartphone of today could accomplish (which Geralt feigned disinterest in, but Jason found him peeking over his shoulder anyway), and electronic television screens, electronic ticket punching machines, escalators and a jumble of other modern day gadgets and amenities thrown at him within the span of a single hour. </p><p>Inwardly, he couldn't help chuckling. </p><p>
  <em>I'll have you marvel and smile yet, my dear shining white knight, drawing you out of that shell of anger and misery. Just you wait.</em>
</p><p>"Here, this is the map of the country we are in. We are here", he pointed to the bright red disc indicating London, "And we are going here", he pointed at the much smaller white dot that marked Colwyn Bay, at the crest of North Wales. He noted, with glee, that Geralt was scrutinizing the map with quite a bit of interest, "It would take a little over four hours. Shall we?"</p><p>He rolled up the map, then offered it to Geralt.</p><p>"I thought you are the one ... driving, no?", the Witcher uttered the word "driving" a little uncertainly.</p><p>"Yes, but I have, you know, this..."</p><p>Jason flashed his smartphone at Geralt, along with a wicked smile.</p><p>The bigger man rolled his eyes -- he was quite literally done wondering what other wondrous tasks that weird flattened, shining box-thing could perform.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, this is going to be fun!</em>
</p><p>Jason held the door open as Geralt first stooped and peered into the car, took a sniff of the interior of it, then warily lowered himself onto the seat.</p><p>Then, his eyes flicked up above, to where Jason had placed his hand, palm up, on the upper rim of the car's door-frame.</p><p>"What are you doing?"</p><p>"Oh! Uh, just making sure you don't bump your head", he explained quickly.</p><p>Immediately, he wished he had not looked straight at the Witcher's eyes (which were now exposed, as Geralt had taken off the goggles). The gold orbs became a shade darker as Geralt processed the answer.</p><p>Was that anger? Or something else entirely?</p><p>"Uh, okay, now scoot a bit away from the door, I'll close it."</p><p>Hastily closing the door (but still way too gently for the Witcher to miss it), Jason walked around the car and let himself in. </p><p>And remembered that Geralt had no idea how to fasten a seat-belt.</p><p>"You, ah, you need to fasten the belt. There", he pointed to Geralt's left. </p><p>The Witcher looked around, then turning back with confusion and a hint of annoyance, barked, "What?"</p><p>Jason had absolutely no idea what possessed him to do it, but he suddenly found himself reaching forward, his right arm extending in front of Geralt to grab hold of the belt.</p><p>Which meant that his body was leaning into Geralt's.</p><p>Flush against Geralt's chest.</p><p>Too close.</p><p>Way too close.</p><p>Jason knew that both people in the car had absolutely stopped breathing. And moving.</p><p>He felt a pair of gold eyes, wide with shock and probably a turbulent swirl of several other emotions (he didn't want to think about), burn a hole into his face.</p><p>He felt the rigid, utterly taut muscles next to his own chest.</p><p>He wondered if he had stepped too far.</p><p>Then, heart in his mouth, he pulled the belt down to Geralt's right side, settling back in his own seat. With a click, he fastened the belt.</p><p>Releasing a shaky breath, he typed route instructions into his phone, connecting it to the car's electronic display panel. </p><p>"Alright, you ready?", he said, his voice rapidly coming back to its usual high-pitched tenor as excitement replaced the adrenaline that just moments ago had nearly drowned his system.</p><p>Geralt pinched the bridge of his nose, and sighed.</p><p>"Just drive, healer."</p><p>"Wooohooo, here we go!", and they were off.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Keep your heart open -- because love and acceptance are often found in the unlikeliest of places</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Aaaaaaaa I know this is crazy this is crazy -- two updates in a single day -- but trust me, my heart is exploding with this story and all the emotions that come with it LOL! I must write, or I fear I shall burst and perish ha ha :-D</p><p>So, Jason drives Geralt up to his adoptive family's country house. Geralt is initially extremely on edge about how he would feel amidst so many people, and how they might welcome him. But surprises await him in the small town of North Wales where they are headed! Do read on to find out, and do leave comments on how you feel about where this is going ... yeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee I am so happy so happy so happy :-D :-D</p><p>And thanks a TON to all the people who have left encouraging comments on my work. You guys are absolutely awesome! Please keep the love coming...</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>This ... <em>car</em> ... was quite comfortable.</p><p>Geralt had to admit it, though he would never confess that to his maddeningly talkative companion. The plush seat allowed him to almost sink into its depths, and there was enough space in the front to stretch his long legs (he had heard Jason ask the keepers of the rental station for a car with adequate <em>leg-space</em>). </p><p>Not to mention that he still could not quite stifle the incredulity of being inside a device -- a contraption -- that just ran on wheels and complex-looking mechanical parts, and what Jason referred to as <em>gas</em>. And he wasn't even going to start with the odd (<em>electronic</em>, were they called?) displays that whirred and flashed in front of him.</p><p>It took quite a bit of time to meander their way through the extremely congested streets of the city. The streets seemed almost choked with similar cars, and bigger mechanized vehicles known as <em>buses</em>. People could be seen on the sidewalks, and silhouettes were visible behind the cars' drawn-up, darkened windows. Geralt decided that no matter how advanced this particular world was, or at least this particular city, it was no less confusing and chaotic here than what he had experienced back home.</p><p>Once they had squeezed their way out of the bottleneck of the city, though, he instantly breathed freer. The countryside was indeed rather lovely and breathtaking, just as the healer had promised. There were dense copses of trees, sometimes patches of woods, amidst sprawling green fields on either side of the wide road. Mammoth chunks of isolated rocky hillocks rose amidst them; sometimes the shimmer of sunlight on the waters of some far-off lake or stream caught his eyes. </p><p>"Here, let me roll down the windows", the healer offered, pressing down on a button by his side.</p><p>Once the windows were down, Geralt's hair was whipped around by errant gusts of wind, which for some reason, made the stupid human next to him giggle (and him to clench his jaws).</p><p>"Look there ... if you leave this route and veer to the one on the left, you will come across a city known as Oxford. Home to one of the best universities in the world", the healer had to shout to be heard above the noise of the wind, "Well, <em>this</em> world."</p><p>Geralt pretended not to listen.</p><p>There were interesting (again, never to be confessed aloud) snippets among the constant string of words that seemed to spout forth out of the healer's mouth like a bubbling stream. Information about his family -- his adoptive family: how he had been taken in by a kind couple (Arthur and Lucy) when he was around seven, how he had three other adopted siblings (Gemma, Anton and Helena) -- all orphans and all lovingly welcomed into their patchwork family. And all would be coming over for this short and much-looked-forward-to vacation. </p><p>Geralt wasn't quite sure how he felt having so many people around him in a single house (despite Jason's proud proclamations about how capacious the country-house was). He was a solitary man for the most part, though much had changed in the last few years, and he had come to belong ... with Jaskier, Ciri, Yen, Vesemir, Eskel, Lambert and Triss. But Kaer Morhen was a colossal keep, and the Witchers regularly set out for short, overnight hunting trips, and the sorceresses on their own, usually secretive missions that lasted for a few days at a time -- so they weren't usually huddled together. </p><p>Not to mention that years and years of traveling alone or with only Jaskier as his companion (and lover) had left their mark on the Witcher. He was skittish around too many strangers, and being in a strange, utterly outlandish world with little idea how to make it back home (despite the reassurances of his most trusted people in his dreams) did not help at all.</p><p>The healer had now changed tack and was prattling effusively about Gemma's husband and children, Helena's new boyfriend who might show up, how he was taking loads of chocolates and candies for the little ones ...</p><p>Geralt tuned out the babbling idiot. </p><p>And turned his eyes out through the open window, allowing himself a rare moment of calm, if peppered with the sorrow and loss that sat heavy in his heart, while drinking in the tranquil beauty of the English countryside.</p><p>So many decades had been spent traipsing around the Continent. Hunting monsters. Wyverns, barghests, drowners, selkiemores, drowned deads, ghouls and alghouls. Some he came across on his trek through dark, sinister-looking forests where no sunlight filtered through the rank, rotting foliage, or the reeking, roiling mud and mouldering organic matter of swamps. Some he sought out, upon seeing hand-painted pamphlets hung on the doors and walls of inns and taverns he frequented, promising coin for eliminating the monsters.</p><p>All those times, he had had to be alert, his nerves constantly on edge, eyes relentlessly peeled for any sudden ambush or imminent danger. Never a moment to relax. Never a moment of unwary laxity. Even with Jaskier by his side (in fact, those times he was even more watchful, ready to spring into action should anything dare threaten his mate).</p><p>But this day, this moment, was different.</p><p>He was no longer the one leading. No longer the one charting the course. No longer the one watching out for lurking foes.</p><p>He was well and truly at the mercy of destiny now.</p><p>And this weird, bouncing, chirping, blabbering, gleeful, giddy little fool sitting next to him.</p><p>Unbidden, he felt a sudden swelling in his heart -- a swell of affection for the human next to him, that he had not seen coming.</p><p>And with it, came the chill reminder of who he looked like, who his voice sounded like, who he even behaved like.</p><p>And the flicker of warmth from a moment ago was doused in the icy cold of hatred, contempt and anger.</p><p>
  <em>And all of those emotions misplaced, misdirected. You know it damn well.</em>
</p><p>Geralt shook his head, in an attempt to rid himself of the small voice of reason at the back of his head.</p><p>
  <em>I. Don't. Care.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You do, though. Remember that moment, long back, when you directed your completely unwarranted rage at Jaskier? Up on those mountains?</em>
</p><p>It was only Geralt's years of conditioning to hide his emotions as a Witcher that helped mask the involuntary flinch.</p><p>
  <em>Do you wish to repeat that same mistake?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That was Jaskier. My Jaskier. This is a stupid, weakling human in a world I do not belong in. A world I am going to escape soon, Melitele willing. I do not care about this piece of shit masquerading as Jaskier.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Watch your words, Geralt. You may come to regret them.</em>
</p><p>Geralt willed this irritating, snide voice to shut up.</p><p>
  <em>And you may come to care for this weakling some day...</em>
</p><p>                                                                                    *********************************************************************************</p><p>Jason knew he was being entirely too garrulous.</p><p>But he just couldn't help it. There was this weird urge -- almost impossible to restrain -- to open up to this taciturn, brooding stranger who had captured his heart in the past four days...</p><p>
  <em>No, he hasn't.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Who exactly are you fooling?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am just filling up awkward silence.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Look at the man. He looks like he would sell his own limbs if it meant having a moment of silence and respite from your stupid yammering.</em>
</p><p>That made him quiet down a little bit.</p><p>Thankfully, their destination was very close now.</p><p>They rounded a bend, and there it was ...</p><p>... the ocean! Opening out in front of them, presenting a vista so breathtaking, so surreal that it never failed to sweep Jason's breath away...</p><p>He heard the sound of sharp inhaling next to him, and turned around to look at his companion.</p><p>Geralt sat staring at the boundless blue waters with an expression that Jason believed came as close to awe and quiet admiration as he would ever see on that stoic face.</p><p>"Do you also love the ocean? I absolutely ADORE it!", he quipped, unable to keep out the infectious joy from his tone.</p><p>The Witcher schooled his expression back into his usual grumpy countenance.</p><p>"No."</p><p>But Jason could have <em>sworn</em> he heard Geralt mutter under his breath...</p><p>"But Jaskier did."</p><p>                                                                                             **************************************************************************</p><p>The car covered the last leg of the journey up a slightly bumpy stretch strewn with pebbles leading to the whitewashed wooden gate of a massive villa.</p><p>The house was old, but well taken care of, and only a few minutes of walk down to the beach. The garden in the front was abloom with phlox, roses, sweet peas, garden pinks, lavenders and a bunch of other exquisite flowers that Jason didn't remember the names of, whereas huge, lofty trees, mostly evergreens, grew in the back, throwing the backyard into relative shadow. </p><p>Sitting on the porch in wooden and bamboo chairs, and drinking lemonade and iced tea, were his family.</p><p>Jason brought the car to a stop, then literally hopped out of the car in barely contained excitement.</p><p>His companion followed much more sedately (having figured out how to unclasp the seat-belt without Jason's help, thank you very much!).</p><p>"JAS! You absolute arse -- whatever took you so long?"</p><p>"Typical Anton", Jason shook his head with a huge smile on his face. Next to him, Geralt seemed to wince at his adopted brother's welcome-screech.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, this is going to be the experience of a lifetime!</em>
</p><p>The people were now filing out towards the gate, each and every face bearing ear-splitting smiles.</p><p>Jason ran to them, pulling Lucy into a tight hug.</p><p>"Ma! It's so good to see you!"</p><p>"Oh I have missed my youngest son so much."</p><p>Lucy pulled down Jason for a peck on his cheek, and he couldn't help blushing a bit. <em>What would Geralt think?</em></p><p>
  Before he greeted the others, he turned around to beckon Geralt towards himself, then gestured to him.
</p><p>
"Ma, this is my friend. Garry. Garry Davies. And Garry, this is Lucy."
</p><p>
 Geralt walked up to Lucy, clearly dawdling a bit trying to decide how best to greet her (Jason pictured him bowing down and kissing the back of Lucy's hand, and immediately started panicking -- he should have tutored the fellow beforehand).
</p><p>
  But if Geralt was dithering, Lucy was <em>not</em>.
</p><p>
 Without the slightest hesitation in her stride, she stepped forward and scooped the man up in her arms.
</p><p>
  Yes.
</p><p>
 That's right. 
</p><p>
  The eighty-year-old frail, tottering woman simply scooped up the huge, hulking, brawny, monster-slaying, sword-wielding, murderous-looking Witcher up in a bear hug.
</p><p>
  Jason realized his mouth was hanging open, and immediately clamped it shut. <em>Mustn't raise suspicions.</em>
</p><p>
  But if he was shocked, then Geralt was...
</p><p>
  Stupefied. 
</p><p>
  Petrified. 
</p><p>
  Struck dumb.
</p><p>
    <em>Well, as dumb as could be, given that the only responses that came from the Witcher were monosyllabic to begin with.</em>
  </p><p>
  His gold eyes had gone round as saucers. The lips were slightly parted. Breaths were shallow.
</p><p>
  In the meantime, Lucy (<em>bless her dear heart</em>) had begun speaking.
</p><p>
  "Oh, Garry, it is so good to see you, love. Jas here has been going on and on about you. He is so fond of you. And we are so happy you have come."
</p><p>
    <em>Okay, that part is totally an exaggeration. I wasn't going on and on about him. I only mentioned him once. Or twice.</em>
 </p><p>
    <em>What about the volley of WhatsApp messages that you exchanged with your adopted family regarding your "new friend"?</em>
</p><p>
    <em>Oh shut up!</em>
 </p><p>
  The Witcher was at an utter loss for words. He looked around slightly frantically, as if hoping some sort of escape route would magically materialize and present itself to him.
</p><p>
  Lucy hadn't noticed anything. She continued happily.
</p><p>
  "I hope you like the house. And my little family here. Very boisterous bunch, but their hearts are good as gold. Make yourself right at home."
</p><p>
 Geralt dumbly nodded.
</p><p>
 "Oh, and feel free to call me Ma. Everyone does, in this family. Even the grandkids, ha ha..."
</p><p>
  She turned away, one hand clasping Geralt's arm, pulling him behind her as she walked towards the rest of the family members anxiously and excitedly waiting to meet the new guest.
</p><p>
 And no one noticed, except Jason.
</p><p>
  No one except him saw the look in Geralt's eyes as he looked down at the woman now holding on to his arm. The woman who simply, without the slightest fuss, without any hesitance, any doubts in her heart, had let him know he was allowed to call her Ma.
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, the vulnerability in those amber orbs.</em>
  </p><p>
    <em>The openness. The raw emotions.</em>
</p><p>
    <em>The look of a man, haggard and defeated, who has wandered the deserts for too long, and has all but given up hope of finding water, when he is suddenly presented with an oasis of surpassing beauty.</em>
 </p><p>
    <em>The look of a man who has been denied everything he ever asked for in his life, for years on end, and now suddenly, someone has offered him a mine full of diamonds and sapphires.</em>
</p><p>
 Jason tried to ignore the lump in his throat. The pain in his heart.</p><p>
    <em>What happened to you, Geralt? What happened to cause you that much hurt, my friend? What agonizing memories do you carry around, ever a burden weighing down your heart?</em>
 </p><p>
Jason hoped he would be able to glean some answers to these questions, before his time with Geralt was up.
</p><p>
                                                                                           ********************************************************************************
</p><p>
  The family greeted Geralt one by one. Gemma and her husband Joshua warmly shook hands with him, Anton clapped him on the shoulder, and Helena, who was younger than Jason, a total tomboy and usually the boldest of the lot, imitated Lucy and hugged him tightly, which Geralt returned somewhat awkwardly.
</p><p>
  "Come, come, Garry, let's get you inside", Lucy bustled, tugging Geralt by his shirt-sleeve.
</p><p>
  The group started strolling back towards the house.
</p><p>
  Helena fell in step beside Jason. From the smirk she threw him, he knew he was in trouble.
</p><p>
 "What?"
</p><p>
  "I didn't say anything."
</p><p>
 "No, but you are dying to."
</p><p>
  "Well, it IS true that you can't take your eyes off him..."
</p><p>
  "Oh, shut up! He is just a friend."
</p><p>
  "So you claimed in your texts."
</p><p>
  "Yes, because that's the truth."
</p><p>
  "Oh come on, not even slightly smitten with him? Just a teensy bit? Teeeensy weeensy..."
</p><p>
  "God, how I did <em>not</em> miss this chatterbox..."
</p><p>
"Well, if you don't want him, I have no problem offering to take him off your hands..."
</p><p>
  "Don't you dare..."
</p><p>
  "Gotcha!"
</p><p>
  He tousled her hair and she elbowed him in the ribs, jumping away when he tried to catch her.
</p><p>
Geralt and Lucy were leading the group, and they had reached the porch.
</p><p>
  From inside the house, came a high-pitched squeal. Again, Jason noticed Geralt wince. He chalked it up to the probable hyper-sensitive hearing Witchers possessed.
</p><p>
  Out came running two little figures through the doorway.
</p><p>
  Two figures looking like stark white apparitions.
</p><p>
 Covered in flour from head to toe.
</p><p>
  Running with their eyes closed, giggling maniacally.
</p><p>
 And slammed into Geralt's thighs and stomach.
</p><p>
  The Witcher let out a soft "Oomph!" and buckled forward, the two wriggling, squirming figures caught inadvertently between his arms.
</p><p>
  Jason bit down on his lips, trying not to laugh.
</p><p>
  No one else bothered to try.
</p><p>
 The whole crowd erupted in guffaws and giggles as the two little figures now shook themselves, showering Geralt in flour dust, all the while squealing in glee.
</p><p>
  "We want to bake the cake! Please! PLEASE!"
</p><p>
  "Now, now, Karen, Katie, calm down you little monkeys", called out Gemma, "And give Uncle Garry here a hug."
</p><p>
 The two kids stopped their chants of "Bake a cake! Bake a cake!" and turned their happy faces towards the man now kneeling in front of them, mouth once again hanging slightly open, eyeing them with considerable apprehension.
</p><p>
  And without a moment's notice, the two children threw their arms around his neck, and hugged him tight, yelling in chorus:
</p><p>
  "Hello Uncle Garry!"
</p><p>
  And placed a couple of sloppy kisses on his stubbly cheeks.
</p><p>
  The Witcher, his face and arms coated with patches of flour, patted the children awkwardly on their backs, and spoke for the first time, a rare smile of true joy beginning to form on his face.
</p><p>
  "Hello!"
</p><p>
                                                                                        ******************************************************************************
</p><p>
  Once they had all filed inside, and the kids (and Geralt) had been dusted free of flour, the family settled down in the sprawling living area of the house. Geralt and Jason sat side by side on a plush, cushioned sofa -- Geralt still trying to digest everything and Jason trying his best not to giggle hysterically.
</p><p>
  Lucy spoke, "Alright, quiet down, you noisy folks. Jason, Garry, darlings, you two haven't had lunch yet, I suppose?"
</p><p>
  "No, Ma. I am famished. Uh, Garry?"
</p><p>
  "Uh, yes. Yes, I would like some lunch, if that is alright."
</p><p>
  Lucy tut-tutted. "None of that, Garry, my son. Whatever you need here, just ask, okay?"
</p><p>
  The Witcher smiled up at her, then dipped his head, and said, "Yes, Ma."
</p><p>
  Jason stared.
</p><p>
  <em>Wait, did he just say that? Did he just call her Ma?</em>
</p><p>
  Lucy was continuing. "Alright, everyone, let's set the table. Oh and you all will have to help me prepare dinner tonight."
</p><p>
  As the entire family rose with a ton of clamour to move to the dining area, Jason leaned towards Geralt and whispered, "You feel better?"
</p><p>
  Geralt turned to him, and for the first time in four days, his eyes bore a soft, warm glow.
</p><p>
  Jason's heart did a tiny break-dance.
</p><p>
  "Yes. Much better."
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Okay, now that you have read the chapter...</p><p>I absolutely hate how Geralt was abandoned by Visenna as a child. Please keep in mind that I haven't read the books yet, and this impression is solely based on the Netflix series. But no child should ever have to go through that. I have since then yearned to write a fic (of fics) where Geralt, alongside finding his love, also finds a mother in someone (or even better, an entire family in some people). And I hope I have been able to do justice to that secret wish of mine (which is no longer secret to y'all LOL)...</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Snippets from the past, promises for the future</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Alright, fifth chapter it is -- can you believe that? (eyeroll) ... in this one, there are a couple of heart-to-heart conversations, one in reality and one in a dream, both of which would prove important in pushing the two stupid men of my story towards each other LOL :-P There's also some angst, which likely will continue for the next chapter (which, if you can believe, I have already started writing ha ha). </p><p>Btw, have to say that writing this fic is giving me plenty of incentives to study the map of the UK (in particular, North Wales) and the English cuisines a little closely -- I am not from an English-speaking nation and I would absolutely LOVE to visit the UK and see its countryside with my own eyes, but for the moment, I guess I have to live that dream through my own fanfiction LOL :-D</p><p>As usual, PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE keep the reviews, comments and encouragement coming... love y'all :-D</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason couldn't recall the last time he had had quite this much fun helping out with family dinners.</p><p>Lucy had had a vague list of dishes in mind. They were close to the sea, so fish was aplenty. Jason and Helena had had a brief verbal tussle over whether the main course would comprise sea-bass with fennel and dill or pan-fried mackerels, and Jason was happy to say that he had comfortably won the vote, and the fragrance of crushed fennel now filled the air. Gemma and Joshua had suggested a light and refreshing mint and basil salad with grilled peaches and walnuts served on a bed of greens (along with avocado, which instantly made Geralt smile and Jason's heart do another happy jig upon seeing that smile). Anton had brought out the drinks. They were all busily chopping, slicing, sauteing, grilling and baking away at the moment, with a lot of easy camaraderie flowing throughout the kitchen, making Jason's heart feel full with happiness.</p><p>And just for extra fun, Jason had made sure to pair Geralt with Katie and Karen, in their (very seriously undertaken) endeavour to bake the cake.</p><p>
  <em>You really are a depraved soul, tormenting the poor man ... who treats the love of their life like that?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I do, obviously!</em>
</p><p>It was an absolute treat, watching the Witcher bend over the kitchen counter, electric hand-mixer in hand, whipping up the eggs and sugar (Jason tried to suppress a giggle recalling how Geralt's eyes had widened when Jason had demonstrated the electric mixer's function, careful to not let the others see how little Geralt knew about modern kitchen appliances). On one side of him, Karen sifted the flour and cocoa powder mixture while trying her best not to shower her two companions with it, and on the other, Katie was meticulously chopping up the bar of bitter-sweet chocolate.</p><p>Jason was startled from his fond musings and surreptitious perusal of Geralt by a soft but wicked whisper next to his ears.</p><p>"If you are done ogling your not-boyfriend, lovebird..."</p><p>Jason did a startled double-take, and Helena snickered.</p><p>And Geralt looked up from the egg mixture, eyeing them with an inscrutable gaze.</p><p>"Helena, you sneaky bas..."</p><p>"Language, Jas."</p><p>"Sorry, Ma."</p><p>Helena sniggered again, this time joined in by Gemma and Joshua and...</p><p>...Geralt?!</p><p>
  <em>He didn't grace me with a single smile all the time he was in my apartment, and now the rascal can't stop flashing his teeth?!</em>
</p><p>Helena continued in that whisper, evil smirk still plastered on her face.</p><p>"I have to say you are not entirely hopeless at this romantic game, brother. That was a very nice move back there."</p><p>"Which one?", Jason asked, unable to help himself, and immediately smacked himself mentally.</p><p>"The one with the hair, of course", Helena wiggled her eyebrows, and Jason blushed beetroot-red.</p><p>Not that she was wrong.</p><p>It had happened right before Geralt had been literally dragged into the kitchen by the shirtsleeves, by two overly enthusiastic kids (and he had happily obliged, to Jason's delight).</p><p>Most of the family had already moved to the kitchen by then. Except Helena, Jason and Geralt, with Helena hovering around the kitchen entrance, seemingly oblivious of her brother and his new friend.</p><p>Jason had turned to Geralt, both wearing matching smiles of contentedness after an extremely pleasant (if a little raucous) afternoon.</p><p>"The kids will come to get you soon."</p><p>Geralt nodded, without looking at Jason. "I have to say I am looking forward to it."</p><p>"I think you should tie up your hair."</p><p>It was then that Geralt had turned to him, a slight frown on his face, but Jason knew he had just been curious as to the reason behind Jason's sudden suggestion.</p><p>"To keep it out of your way. It could get dirty. Like being smeared with eggs, or something."</p><p>Geralt's face had cracked into a smile.</p><p>"Trust me, Karen and Katie are capable of every mischief conceivable under the sun."</p><p>Geralt had lowered his eyes, the smile still gracing those (<em>oh-so-inviting</em>) lips, as if mulling over some fond, cherished memory.</p><p>"Here, let me."</p><p>Jason was still not sure what had emboldened him so.</p><p>He had stood up, walked behind Geralt, and in a sure, swift motion, had undone the leather cord fastening his pony-tail.</p><p>He knew Geralt had immediately stiffened, sitting like a stone statue, tension radiating off him in waves, and that had made Jason do yet another thing he would have thought utterly beyond him a couple of days back.</p><p>He had placed a gentle hand on Geralt's tense right shoulder, murmuring, "Relax, Geralt. Please."</p><p>A pregnant pause. Jason had felt his courage slipping away, and had decided to act before it left him altogether.</p><p>"I think you know I shall never hurt you. Please, breathe, Geralt."</p><p>And a heartbeat later, that shoulder had relaxed, if infinitesimally, and Jason had heard the very soft whoosh of a breath held for a long time.</p><p>He had gathered up the impossibly silky, soft white strands in his hand, feeling their luxurious weight and lustre, with more care and gentleness than he had himself thought he was capable of. </p><p>
  <em>When did he become this precious to you, Jason?</em>
</p><p>He had no answer to that.</p><p>Bringing it all together, he had gently but tightly wound the broad black leather cord around the base of the bunched up hair, tying it off securely before stepping away to examine his handiwork.</p><p>"All done."</p><p>Geralt had stood up, very slowly, one hand going to the back of his head to feel the much thicker pony-tail dangling from there. Then, taking what felt almost agonizingly long to Jason, the Witcher had turned to look at him. </p><p>
  <em>Gosh, those eyes!</em>
</p><p>Jason could not tell what deep emotion they smouldered with. Could not fathom why Geralt's breathing was heavy, his lips were slightly parted. Why ...</p><p>... there was that <em>hunger</em> in his entire expression as he regarded Jason.</p><p>Jason had felt his knees ridiculously wobble, heart hammering loud enough that he suspected the Witcher could hear it all with his sharpened hearing.</p><p>And then, the kids had come squealing back to "escort Uncle Garry to the kitchen."</p><p>                                                                            ************************************************************************************************</p><p>Despite Lucy urging everyone to go to bed early ("You kids all had a long day today, you need your rest" etc.), the entire family had gathered around in the living space after dinner. The sun had long set, but the sky was streaked with ember-red and deep orange and purple still. The lights in the hall had been subdued, to allow for enjoying the colours across the sky through the open windows. A soft, cool breeze blew, and although it was a land breeze, the familiar tang of the sea close by remained in the air.</p><p>Most of them had foregone the couches to lounge on the floor which was covered in several very thick, very velvety Kashmiri rugs, with the cushions to serve as pillows and backrests. Only Lucy sat on a small settee and Anton lay sprawled on a sofa, seemingly a little too drunk.</p><p>Geralt sat close to the (ancient-looking) hearth, with the two kids curled up against his chest on either side, a brilliantly coloured book in hand, reading out something that sounded like "Belling the cat" to them, occasionally pausing to answer their questions.</p><p>
  <em>Who knew the man had such a way with children...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Look at you, all melting and gooey...</em>
</p><p>Jason couldn't protest against that impish little voice. Not anymore. He knew it was right.</p><p>He knew his heart was a lost cause now.</p><p>
  <em>The hulking, brooding, infuriatingly reticent, often glowering and sometimes frightening stranger -- a stoical Witcher from another universe who hunted down inimical monsters and kept people safe -- had lain claim to his heart. Without even trying to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And who was Jason to deny this noble knight -- this man he knew so woefully little about -- his wish?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And so, without hesitation, without any appraisal and second thoughts, without asking questions and demanding answers, without the expectation of reciprocation, he had offered up his bleeding heart in a silver tray. For Geralt to do with it as he pleased.</em>
</p><p>"Jas, don't be like that."</p><p>Jason nearly jumped. Why his little sister had such an annoying habit of startling him out of every blissful reverie was beyond him.</p><p>She was sitting right next to him, head on his shoulder, idly hugging a cushion to herself. They kept their voices as low as possible.</p><p>"Be like what?"</p><p>"You are drowning in it. Again. You love too freely and too deeply, brother."</p><p>Jason gulped. He knew what was coming.</p><p>"How long have you known Garry?"</p><p>"Long enough", Jason tried to shrug.</p><p>"Don't play games with me. How long?"</p><p>"A few days", a pause, "Four."</p><p>Helena straightened and looked at him with utter incredulity in her eyes.</p><p>Turning to the rest of the room, she announced, "Folks, Jas and I are going for a walk."</p><p>"Alright, darlings, don't be long though", said Lucy.</p><p>Jason was pretty sure he had not imagined the searing intensity of a pair of molten-gold eyes that followed his every step and burned upon his back as he walked out with his little sister.</p><p>                                                                         ********************************************************************************************</p><p>It was quiet outside, with the occasional call of a nightingale. The incessant crash of the waves could be heard. They started walking towards the beach, side by side.</p><p>"Jas, this is all too familiar. This is you and Aahad, all over again."</p><p>Jason knew Helena was worried for him. Rightfully so. The last time he had been in a relationship...</p><p>... it had left him nearly broken and bleeding at her doorstep, and she (and Gemma, Anton and Joshua) had picked up every piece of him with care and love and put him back together, bit by painstaking bit.</p><p>"You know this man for four days, Jas. FOUR. It takes a lifetime to know oneself, even longer to know another. And in four days, you have lost your heart to him?"</p><p>"I don't know how else to love, Helena. How do you love, while holding back? How can I love, if I don't give in fully?"</p><p>"Love makes us vulnerable, yes. I know, I agree, and it would be absolutely wonderful if everyone could love as freely, as unconditionally, as readily as you do. But Jas, I am sorry to break this to you, but this is <em>not</em> your ideal world. Not one of those utopic worlds you read about in your bizarre fantasy novels."</p><p>"Yeah, I know", he sighed.</p><p>"Look, I shall never ever ask you to change. You are a gem of a person, Jas. Kinder than anyone I have ever met, except possibly Lucy and Arthur. But you cannot go through life like this. Whether you like it or not, people will batter you, pummel you with harshness, cruelty, rejection. Sometimes contempt and derision. Because you so resolutely refuse to guard your heart in the slightest."</p><p>Jason slumped, but Helena ploughed on.</p><p>"People take advantage of you all the time, Jas. Because you let them. Last time, Aahad used you as a shoulder to cry on. He used you for comforting him, sleeping with him. Then left you in the dust when you were nothing but a husk to him. We saw you suffer, Jas. Please, please do not ask your family, your siblings to witness that again."</p><p>"Helena, do you trust me?"</p><p>"With my life, Jas."</p><p>"Then can I say something to you? This is not like that time. It's NOT! I cannot explain this to you ... Garry ... well ... it goes without saying that he is <em>nothing</em> like Aahad. He has not asked me to comfort him, to help him. In fact, more often than not he spurns all help. He ... does not ask. For anything, Helena. I know there are reservoirs of pain, of loneliness and anguish and ... and loss ... in his heart, concealed carefully. And I feel this ... connection ... with him. Yes, yes, I know you will jump up and say I am only imagining it", he added hastily, seeing the indignant look on Helena's face, "But I never felt such a connection with Aahad. EVER. I would have told you if I did. I had long known Aahad was using me, but kept denying it. But Garry ... I feel like we were meant to meet."</p><p>"Riiiight. Like destiny", Helena scoffed.</p><p>"Yes", Jason mused, "Yes. Like destiny. I can't see the end to this ... of course I cannot. All I know is that, he was meant to walk into my life. If he stays, I shall have found myself the man I wish to spend my entire existence with. And if he leaves..."</p><p>"If he leaves, Jas?"</p><p>"Then he shall have changed my life in some indelible way. But not ... in a bad way."</p><p>"Jason Coleridge, can you get your head out of those shitty fantasy novels you read, for once?"</p><p>"Helena, please. If I do not pursue this trail, this path, to its end, I shall always regret it. I just ... know it deep down, dear sis. Please, trust me. I know that if I let it go now, I shall forever be left wondering what might have happened if I had held on."</p><p>What he did not speak out loud, as Helena kept putting up protests and counter-arguments, was how he did not, likely, have much time anyway.</p><p>
  <em>Don't worry, baby sis. He will, quite possibly, be gone soon. Taking my heart with him. Never to come back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And for the life of me, I cannot figure out why it still feels so damn <strong>right</strong> to let him snatch my heart and keep it in his own body, forever.</em>
</p><p>                                                                   *******************************************************************************************************</p><p>
  <em>Geralt was surprised to find himself reclining on one of those strange wooden chairs ('deckchairs', did Jason say?), at the beach. The sun glittered upon the swelling blue waters and the frothing foam of the waves, like a million diamonds scattered over the entire expanse.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He heard someone next to him, and turned his head to see...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Jaskier?!"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Hello, Love."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt knew this was a dream. His heart twisted in agony, and it must have shown on his face.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt, please! I know you are in pain, my dearest, but you cannot let it crush you underneath its unforgiving weight forever. Let it wash away from your tired soul, bit by bit."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"I couldn't keep you, Jask."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Says who, Husband?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt looked at him, the painful grimace on his face now tinged with surprise.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Oh I married you in my heart long ago, Geralt. You are, and forever will be, my husband."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And yet, I cannot hold you in my arms. Cannot kiss your forehead and hum you to sleep. Cannot share your bed. Cannot have you by my side as we watch Ciri grow up."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier smiled, with a touch of sadness, and sighed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"All those are both true and not true, Geralt."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What do you mean?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt, I am to stay in your heart forever. I am to stay by your side forever. Remember that there will always be this room in your heart -- quite a spacious one, obviously", he chuckled at the jest, "Which will forever be mine. I shall dwell there, and light a lamp there every single day, until the end of your days. The more the darkness and heaviness of sorrow, loss, pain, misunderstanding, harshness and cruelty you face from the world around you, the brighter my lamp will shine, the warmer it will wax."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt hung on to every word for dear life, his eyes glued to Jaskier's dear face despite the tears streaming down from them.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"As long as you remember this, Geralt, you will not feel alone, and you will not, mistakenly, feel me gone. Because our destinies are tied together, Husband."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After a pause, he tore his eyes from the sea and looked at Geralt. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And perhaps that is why, while my mortal body rests in a grave back home, you are being given another chance. By life. To live again. And to love again."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Love whom, Jaskier? If not you, Beloved, then whom?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You know very well whom, Geralt. Do you know how rare this is? How precious? How very, very few people get a chance, after losing their loved one, to find another, different avatar of that same person, somewhere else, perhaps in a different universe?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt felt himself choke on his tears.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Dear heart, I did not sacrifice living in one universe for you to spend your entire life wallowing and writhing in endless agony despite having found an avatar ... a rendition ... of me in another universe."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Jaskier, I can't ... he is not <strong>you</strong>..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Not exactly me, granted, but he is whom I would have been in this universe..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Not good enough, Jaskier."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Geralt, do you think life is under any obligation whatsoever to give us what we want? You have seen how Destiny asserts herself, have you not, Husband? And you ... you who have been rejected, abandoned, scorned, spurned, hated, despised, mistrusted, doubted, attacked, vilified, derided, stoned all your long years ... Destiny has chosen to reward and recompense in these past few years. Destiny brought us together. Destiny brought you a daughter. Destiny brought you friends like Yennefer and Triss, brought you closer together with your Witcher family."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier drew a deep breath.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"And now, when Cahir and Fringilla took me away from you, Destiny brought <strong>me</strong> back to you again. A different me, of a different universe. But one no less worthy of your love and adoration, White Wolf. And you damn well know that."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt sighed, defeated. He never did succeed in keeping up with his bard in verbal sparring, after all. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Very well, but what makes you think he will ever love me back? He has a home here, Jask, and he is never going to leave. Not for a complete stranger from an alien world. And I have to go back. As soon as I can. To Ciri. To my own home."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier smiled.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Something tells me that you already know the answer to your first question, Geralt. I think you know <strong>how much</strong> he has already come to love you, dear heart. And his love will only grow, not diminish, rest assured. As for whether he will accompany you or not", Jaskier said, his face thoughtful, looking back towards the sea, "Let him decide where he chooses to make his home, Geralt. Don't make that choice for him, please."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"What of heartbreak, Jask?"</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier let out a carefree laugh. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>"You underestimate the strength of the heart far too much, Beloved. You may feel it is fragile and breakable, but it is more resilient than you give it credit for. And I shall never break your heart, my dear Wolf. No matter which universe we meet in."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt just watched Jaskier. Drinking in every curve, every edge of that outline, of that dear face. Those eyes that complimented the sea beautifully. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But his image was now starting to fade. Slowly, but surely.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Jaskier...", Geralt panicked.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"All I am asking, Geralt, is that you do not throw this second chance to the wind. All I am begging of you is for you to open your heart, one more time, Beloved. I know it hurts, but trust me, if you keep it shut in fear and pain, you will never let the sun in. And you will forever regret that, Geralt."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Jaskier..."</em>
</p><p>
  <em>"Give love a chance again. Give <strong>me</strong> a chance again. I belong with you, dear heart, in this universe and in any other. Don't cast me from your side."</em>
</p><p>                                                                         **************************************************************************************************</p><p>Geralt couldn't deny how his heart was lifted -- by the vivid cobalt blue of the sea, the slightly overcast sky giving it a stormy-grey tinge, the gulls circling above and their loud calls, the ceaseless lashing of the waves upon the shore, the ochre sands of the beach.</p><p>And the people who were currently whipping up a ruckus while jumping and splashing and half-swimming around like little kids in the shallow waters of the sea.</p><p>
  <em>In particular, one svelte man, shirtless, with mussed-up brown hair plastered ridiculously to his face and sticking out at odd angles, wading through the waters and scooping up water to splatter his siblings and brother-in-law with. Laughing like a boy. The cornflower-blue of his eyes even more enhanced by the the blue sea in the backdrop</em>
</p><p>
  He was shaken from his silent and thoughtful appraisal by Katie, begging him to help her and her sister out with the (currently shapeless) sand castle they were trying to build.
</p><p>
  "My granddaughters have become besotted with you, Garry."
</p><p>
  He threw a fond smile towards Lucy, who sat next to him, watching her kids having fun.
</p><p>
  "Thank you, Ma, for letting me stay."
</p><p>
  "Garry, my son, I'll have you know from this day onward that you are <strong>always</strong> welcome in my home. Know that you have a second family here."
</p><p>
  Geralt reached out and squeezed her veined hand in his own, wet sand and all.
</p><p>
  <em>You will never know how much you gave to me, Ma, freely, lovingly, without me ever having asked for it.
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
 <em> You will never know how you healed my heart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>All these long, long decades, all I could think of was how I became a Witcher. I didn't choose to. It was forced upon me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>All because I was unloved by my sorceress mother. Visenna, whom I loved so much. Visenna, who was my world. Visenna, who abandoned me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>And after all these years of being burned, of feeling rejected by my own mother...</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>I found you...</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
  Just like I lost Jaskier and found ...</em>
 </p><p>
  Geralt swallowed thickly.
</p><p>
  "I can see why Jas is so taken with you, Garry."
</p><p>
  "I have been nothing more than a burden and a bother for him so far, Ma."
</p><p>
  Lucy placed a soft knuckle underneath Geralt's chin and tilted his face up to meet her eyes.
</p><p>
  "I want you to remember something, son. You are NOT a burden. Not now, not ever. If someone thinks of you as a burden, it is they whose souls are lacking in love. You are a beautiful, lovely, loving, caring man, deserving love and care and friendship in return. Let no one ever tell you otherwise."
</p><p>
  Geralt was not sure if his heart was going to burst at the seams.
</p><p>
  "Besides, I <strong>know</strong> you are not a burden ... not remotely close to a burden ... for Jas. Have you seen how his eyes light up when they look at you, Garry?"
</p><p>
    <em>No, no, he dared not hope! He couldn't afford to lose anymore...</em>
  </p><p>
 "My youngest son loves you, Garry, my boy. Much more than he lets on. He is a timid boy, that one. Probably wondering in his head whether you care for him. He won't say anything to me, but I can tell."</p><p>
  "He ... he is ... I don't think I have met anyone kinder than him, Ma."
</p><p>
    <em>And I am not sure I deserve someone so pure, so unselfish, so giving...</em>
 </p><p>
  "I agree with you, son. He's a good catch, isn't he?", Lucy winked and Geralt couldn't help but chuckle fondly, "And here he comes."
</p><p>
  Geralt wasn't sure why his stupid heart did a small somersault as he turned from Lucy towards the ocean. Towards the young, absolutely beautiful and attractive man now walking back towards them, dripping wet.
</p><p>
  "Gera--Garry! Do you, uh, want to come take a dip in the ocean? The water's cold, but not uncomfortably so."
</p><p>
  Geralt peered up at the man in front of him, then silently extended his hand.
</p><p>
  Jason looked at his proffered hand like he couldn't believe his eyes. Then, face splitting in a grin from ear to ear, he took it and helped Geralt to his feet.
</p><p>
  They each continued to clasp the other's hand for a few seconds longer than was strictly necessary, staring into each other's eyes, then let go.
</p><p>
  "Let's see how well you can splash around, shall we?"
</p><p>
  Geralt quirked an eyebrow at the challenge.
</p><p>
    <em>See if I don't make you eat those words, my dear Jason.
  </em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Wait! "My dear Jason"?</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
 Since when did he go from "the healer" and "stupid fool" to "dear Jason"?</em>
</p><p>
  "LET'S GO!"
</p><p>
  Jason turned around and started sprinting back towards the ocean, Geralt hot on his heels.
</p><p>
                                                                           *********************************************************************************************
</p><p>
  It didn't take long for Jason to realize that he was truly doomed if he continued to douse the Witcher with water. Geralt was looking mutinous right now, with a predatory leer on his face and the promise of revenge as he eyed Jason. Jason tried to think what the best course of action might be, while trying to ignore how those molten pools of gold made his heart and stomach both go utterly crazy.
</p><p>
  Suddenly, the Witcher called to him.
</p><p>
  "Is that all you have got? How about going deeper in?"
</p><p>
  And without waiting for an answer, he turned around and started wading deeper into the ocean.
</p><p>
  It was quite cold, to be honest, but Jason wasn't going to give up on an invitation from Geralt. He followed suit, at the same time shouting warnings about treacherous riptides and undercurrents.
</p><p>
  They stopped swimming once they realized, looking back, that they had come quite a distance, and the forms of Gemma, Anton, Joshua and Helena looked rather minuscule from where their torsos bobbed in and out of water. 
</p><p>
  "So, you <em>do</em> like the sea?"
</p><p>
  Geralt said nothing, but as he looked at Jason, with those smouldering gold eyes tinged with ember-red, he ...
</p><p>
  ... his eyes dipped down, and he smiled shyly ...
</p><p>
  ... and Jason felt he would melt as he saw how absolutely beautiful, soft, tender, vulnerable the Witcher's face had become thanks to that rare smile...
</p><p>
  "I do."
</p><p>
  Small answer, but offered with the utmost sincerity.
</p><p>
  The wayward waves and currents, in the meantime, had conspired to bring the two men much closer together. Their outstretched arms were occasionally touching each other as waves jostled them, their chests only a few inches apart.
</p><p>
  And they seemed unable to tear their eyes off one other.
</p><p>
  Jason's heart was stuttering now. <em>So close...</em>
</p><p>
  "Geralt, I..."
</p><p>
  "Jason..."
</p><p>
  They had spoken up at the same time! It made them both giggle like little children. Jason felt his heart was absolutely going to soar out of his body, light and happy as a lark.
</p><p>
    <em>Not to mention that this is the first time, ever, that Geralt has spoken my name.
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
  About damn time!</em>
  </p><p>
  "Go on, Geralt -- you first."
</p><p>
  That shy smile again!
</p><p>
  "Thank you. I ... the way I treated you back in ... London", Geralt rolled the name around on his tongue, "It was not nice of me. After everything you did, after you saved me..."
</p><p>
  "It's no problem..."
</p><p>
  "No, please. Let me do this. I have learned the hard way the importance of sincere, honest apologies."
</p><p>
  For a moment, the Witcher's gaze became distant, laced with pain and longing. But he brought himself back to the present with some effort.
</p><p>
  "I was ... scared, Jason. Scared and ... and suspicious ... of you. One moment, I was in my own world --  the next, I was coming awake in a completely different one. Until that moment, I hadn't even known that other universes exist", the Witcher paused, clearly unused to speaking so many words at a go, "I couldn't let my guard down, even though a part of me let me know it was safe to trust you. For that, please forgive me, Jason."
</p><p>
  "Geralt, I am being totally honest when I say, I am so happy that whatever incidents led up to your teleporting to this universe, landed you in my apartment. And I am so happy I could ... take care of you."
</p><p>
  Geralt was searching Jason's eyes for something, and it seemed as if he was waiting for him to continue. And some part of Jason's mind screamed at him.
</p><p>
    <em>Tell him. Tell him now.
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
  Tell him how you feel.</em>
  </p><p>
  Jason's heart clenched involuntarily as he felt the sudden cold, clammy claws of fear wrap around the wildly beating organ, digging in. 
</p><p>
  The fear of rejection.  
</p><p>
  But then, he remembered what he himself had told his sister, about seeing this -- whatever this was -- to its end, about leaving no stone unturned, leaving no room for regrets.
</p><p>
  "Geralt, I am so happy that ... that I have ... I have come to care..."
</p><p>
  "You have been very kind to me ... I can never repay you. Certainly not before I leave."
</p><p>
    <em>Repay me? Before he leaves?
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh!</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
  So, that's what this is about. Repayment of a debt. Before he disappears from my life.</em>
  </p><p>
  Geralt had not yet noticed anything amiss with Jason's face, though it had started to droop, losing the brightness and hope sparkling in his eyes from a moment ago.
</p><p>
  In fact, the Witcher suddenly reached out, and laid his somehow-still-warm, large, calloused palm on Jason's shoulder. Jason felt like his bare skin was being seared by that touch.
</p><p>
  "I shall forever be grateful to you. I shall carry your memory ... all the memories I am making here, back with me. Carry them forever in my heart."
</p><p>
  Jason felt his chest constricting in a manner that would soon make breathing difficult. And by now, Geralt had figured out that something was not quite right.
</p><p>
  The hand resting on Jason's shoulder softly brushed over his skin, rubbing a little distance down his arm, without the Witcher even realizing that he was trying to comfort the younger man.
</p><p>
  "Jason, what's wrong?"
</p><p>
    <em>Here I am, wearing my wounded, lovesick heart on my sleeve.
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
  And there he is -- all he can think of is when he will get to leave my universe. My company.</em>
 </p><p>
  A small voice of reason lightly admonished him, reminding him that Geralt, after all, had a home back in his own universe, and it was natural and completely understandable that he yearned to return there. Not to mention that he had a betrothed waiting for him. 
</p><p>
  But the emotions coursing through Jason right now were strong enough to drown that voice.
</p><p>
  Pushing past the hurt (and the anger at himself and his own stupid hopes that Geralt would somehow continue to inhabit this universe), Jason tried to shrug. "It's nothing."
</p><p>
  He knew the Witcher was far from convinced, if the frown on that noble forehead was anything to go by.
</p><p>
  "I, uh, am a bit cold. Let's, uh, head back, may be?"
</p><p>
  Quietly, Geralt nodded, removing his hand from Jason's shoulder, whose body immediately ached for the touch.
</p><p>
                                                                                        ******************************************************************************************
</p><p>
  Geralt didn't know what it was he had said, that had upset Jason so.
</p><p>
  The Witcher had become accustomed, despite initial protests from a part of his mind, to the scent of Jason -- different from Jaskier's, yet quite pleasant. Just like his Jaskier's, it was a happy scent -- reminding anyone who could detect it of sunshine, green meadows, wildflowers in bloom, crystal-clear lakes with waterlilies and lotuses floating in them. A scent that had come to fill Geralt with a sense of being free, running wild, pausing to admire the little things, the seemingly insignificant things, of life.
</p><p>
  But now, that scent was replaced by an astringent one. Geralt did not know Jason enough to know what emotions could cause this change. 
</p><p>
    <em>Could it be anger? Hurt? Being upset and mad at me?
</em></p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>
  Heartbreak?
  </em>
</p><p>
  Geralt tried to dispel that last word from his mind. He wasn't yet sure if he could let his heart wander into that territory. 
</p><p>
  He knew Jason was trying his best to not reveal this change in him to the others, joking around and laughing when appropriate, and he was succeeding, after a fashion. Almost no one had seemed to notice anything amiss in his demeanour.
</p><p>
  Except Helena.
</p><p>
  Because Geralt could smell the concern rolling off her in waves as she intermittently eyed Jason from across the dinner table.
</p><p>
  Gemma spoke up.
</p><p>
  "Garry, have you ever been to this part of the UK? If not, I think we should take you to visit the Conwy Castle, and the town of Llandudno."
</p><p>
  "That ... would be very kind of you, Gemma."
</p><p>
  "What say, Jas?"
</p><p>
  Jason started from his silent munching and staring into his bowl, then looked up.
</p><p>
  "Wha--oh, yeah, of course! That would be great! Amazing idea, Gem."
</p><p>
  "I think", piped up Helena, "That Jas should take Garry out for this trip."
</p><p>
  All eyes swiveled towards Jason, and all the faces, except Geralt's and Helena's, seemed ready to split into conniving smiles. 
</p><p>
  Jason seemed to wither slightly underneath all those gazes, then gave a sheepish smile and said, "Of course! If Garry will suffer my company..."
</p><p>
  "Gladly."
</p><p>
  Jason probably had not expected that. He looked at Geralt with disbelieving, round eyes.
</p><p>
  And Geralt threw him what he hoped was the warmest smile he could muster.
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Baring my soul to you ... slowly but surely</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>And 6th chapter is here :-D Yes, yes, I know ... it's a slow-burn romance ... but what can I say? I'm evil like that :-D </p><p>So, in this chapter, Geralt and Jason *significantly* warm up to each other and communicate -- *a lot*. So that's good, though of course it's all laced with melancholy and wistful longing and uncertainty about whether they are doomed to part ways when Geralt leaves this universe. Y'all angst lovers -- cheers :-D</p><p>But also, some dark secrets from Jason's past comes up. How would Geralt react to that?</p><p>REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW PLEEEEEEEEEASE :-D :-D AND A HUGE THANK YOU TO EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU DARLINGS WHO APPRECIATED THIS WORK SO FAR, AND LEFT COMMENTS THAT MADE ME SOOOO HAPPY :-D</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next morning, Lucy insisted that the rest of the family prepare and pack lunch for Jason and Geralt, since they would not be home until late afternoon or early evening.</p><p>Jason had vowed to himself that no matter how eager his heart was to spend the day moping and sulking, after their conversation the day before, he was going to make sure Geralt had as good a time as possible while he was still in Jason's universe.</p><p>"Although Llandudno is closer from here, I feel it would be nicer to take you to Conwy first. The castle may seem far more fascinating to you, given where you come from", explained Jason, after they were comfortably seated in Anton's car.</p><p>"Sure. Uh, Jason?"</p><p>"Yes, Geralt?"</p><p>"My seat-belt, please?"</p><p>Jason stared up from the map he was showing to his companion, all the absentmindedness from a moment ago vanished from his eyes.</p><p>"You want me to..."</p><p>"Yes, please. If you do not mind, that is."</p><p>Jason wasn't sure why his throat suddenly felt so tight, and why his hand shook a bit as he reached for the seat-belt. This time, however, he actively tried to keep his body off Geralt's chest, and pretended not to notice the small frown (<em>no way was that disappointment ... you're just imagining things</em>) that graced Geralt's forehead as his amber eyes observed Jason's every move.</p><p>The drive was only about fifteen minutes, and Geralt, to Jason's immense surprise, actually praised the scenery around them, especially the view from the bridge across the Conwy River.</p><p>
  <em>He seems happy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Does it not make you happy too?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, but I wish I could lift this weight off my chest. Wish I could feel a little less morose.</em>
</p><p>Once inside the castle, the two started walking around in companionable silence, occasionally punctuated by Jason explaining how the castle with its massive, imposing defensive ramparts was built in the late 1200's by Edward I during his conquest of Wales, the role it played in the English civil wars, how the castle is one of the best remaining examples of military architecture from the 13th and 14th centuries in Europe. Geralt listened with great interest, and asked questions that proved what an adept warrior he was, and how keen his mind was when it came to war strategies, defending a fortress and so on. He even deigned to furnish little pieces of information and anecdotes about Kaer Morhen, the nigh-inaccessible mountain stronghold housing the school where he and his Witcher brothers had been trained, long ago.</p><p>Jason found his heart lift a bit, despite himself, at the easy camaraderie that somehow seemed to establish itself between him and the man he had hopelessly fallen for. The pain and knowledge of how he could never truly be Jason's lingered at the back of his mind, but it was a little less smothering, and he felt a bit lighter than the last evening.</p><p>"Geralt", he began, during a lull in their discussion about the castle and general history of medieval Europe (something which Geralt seemed to relate to a lot), "Have you, uh, found out anything about, you know, your possibility of returning? To your own world?"</p><p>Geralt turned towards him from where he was leaning against a window of the castle, gazing out at the landscape beyond.</p><p>"So eager to have me gone, Jas", he smiled with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Jas.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If that was not progress, Jason wasn't sure what was.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And yet...</em>
</p><p>The joke turned sour for his hurting soul.</p><p>"I think you know how much I <em>don't</em> want you gone, Geralt", he said seriously, the response coming out a touch more clipped than he had intended.</p><p>Geralt's smile disappeared. Only to be replaced by a pained frown on his forehead, and vulnerability (<em>so rare, so precious</em>) shrouding his usually inscrutable eyes.</p><p>Pushing himself off the wall, he leaned closer to Jason (whose heart leaped, despite himself), and a hand came up ...</p><p>... <em>to cup Jason by the cheek.</em></p><p>Jason nearly, violently, flinched, catching himself at the last moment. He felt his skin would forever feel, forever cherish, forever yearn for the heat from the way-too-warm palm now pressed to his cheek and the side of his throat.</p><p>
  <em>Oh god! Is there no escape from this torture?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can't have him. And yet, he has me at his mercy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I ought to fling that hand away. Run for my dear life.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yet all I can do is lean into that touch, invite that hand to cradle my face even more...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>All I can do is stare up at those hauntingly entrancing golden orbs, like a deer caught in a car's headlights...</em>
</p><p>"Jas, do you not think that...", the Witcher paused, and his eyes dipped down to Jason's plump lips, "Do you not feel that I would miss you too? That if there were a way..."</p><p>He closed his eyes, as if it was too painful to continue...</p><p>"If there were a way to ... have you in my world, I would not? I would not want you there?"</p><p>"Me? In your world? Another man who looks just like your betrothed, Geralt?"</p><p>Geralt closed his eyes again, his breaths coming heavy, like he truly was in pain and needed air, badly. His palm, however, remained firmly pressed to his healer's (<em>HIS healer?!</em>) cheek.</p><p>"Jaskier is no more, Jas. He...", that dear, deep, rumbling voice cracked, "He's gone. He died in the same battle in which I was wounded. Before I was teleported."</p><p>
  <em>Oh!</em>
</p><p>Jason didn't know if his already strained, frayed nervous system could handle the tempest -- the frigging cyclone -- of emotions that was surging through him.</p><p>
  <em>The emptiness, the loss, the unspeakable agony, the impossible weight of sorrow and bereavement and sheer longing for a lost mate that Geralt felt. And because Geralt felt them, so did Jason. With every fibre of his being. Making him want to strip every last shred of anguish, of misery from the Witcher's soul and make it all his. Swallow it all. Just so he could protect Geralt from it, even if it meant exposing himself to its wrath, its inferno.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sudden spark of hope in his heart. Hope that perhaps there was a place in Geralt's life for him, after all. Hope for the possibility of being loved back by the man who occupied his entire, bleeding heart.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And guilt. Guilt that he -- a doctor, a person who had been touted all his life as unfailingly kind, compassionate, loving and caring -- actually saw hope for himself in the news of demise of another human. Another person in another universe who looked just like him.</em>
</p><p>This last emotion left such a bitter taste in his mouth that he was instantly filled with a sense of self-loathing.</p><p>And then, a weird voice spoke up in his mind. A voice that somehow, somewhere deep down, he knew sounded just like him and yet did not belong to any part of his own mind.</p><p>
  <em>I hold nothing against you, Jason. Please do not berate yourself so.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier?!!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I am happy my husband found you. Found <strong>me</strong> in this universe. He is very fortunate.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Are you really there?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Yes, and no. I live on in you, after a fashion, Jason. And I wish you nothing but happiness. And love -- I hope you find your love, and soon.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Which is not saying much, considering that the oaf is standing right in front of you, mouth agape like a fish...</em>
</p><p>Jason was startled from his -- introspection? conversation with a non-existent human? with his own conscience? -- by that last sentence Jaskier had spoken. Indeed, Geralt was standing there, mouth slightly open (though certainly not gaping like a fish), eyes brokenly gazing upon Jason's face.</p><p>"I am alone. Again."</p><p>Jason reached up and placed his own hand over Geralt's, where it rested on his face even now.</p><p>"You are NOT alone, Geralt. You have told me almost nothing about your world, but I am sure there are people there who love you to the moon and back. And WE love you. Ma loves you..."</p><p>He took a deep breath, throwing caution and all his pragmatic senses to the wind, <em>because what was the point of hiding anymore...</em></p><p>"And I love you, Geralt."</p><p>The Witcher's breath hitched. He stood looking at Jason like the younger man would disappear from before his eyes any moment now.</p><p>"You have us. You have <strong>me</strong>", another deep, steadying breath, "You will <strong>always</strong> have me."</p><p>                                                                                                 ***************************************************************************</p><p>They decided they would have a late lunch, once they reached Llandudno and were seated either at the pier or the promenade, enjoying the view.</p><p>Unwrapping the tuna sandwiches and handing one to Geralt, Jason thought that this was as good a time as any other to plunge into the barrage of questions that his mind was bursting with.</p><p>"Go on", came the deep rumble from next to him, as Geralt unscrewed the lid of the flask containing still-steaming coffee, "Ask away. I know you can't wait to."</p><p>Jason narrowed his eyes at him, and Geralt laughed.</p><p>It was an odd sound -- not only pleasant but impossibly precious because of its rarity. And it melted both Jason's heart and his mock-indignant expression.</p><p>"Tell me whatever you like. About yourself, your home, your family, friends. Your profession", he paused, "Your time with Jaskier. I just want to hear anything, and only those things, that you wish to tell me."</p><p>The Witcher held his gaze with his own golden eyes, emotions flickering in them.</p><p>
  <em>Pride. Gratitude. Affection. Trust. Vulnerability. Tenderness. Endearment.</em>
</p><p>"I have a daughter."</p><p>"You were married earlier? To a lady?"</p><p>"Ha ha, no, not at all. A Child Surprise."</p><p>"What does that mean?"</p><p>And just like that, the walls were torn down, the floodgate was lifted, and the stories poured forth.</p><p>                                                                                                    **************************************************************************</p><p>Jason was glad he had remembered to coax the (real, not toy) polaroid camera Anton had gifted Katie on her last birthday (and which she carried around and proudly flaunted everywhere she went) from her before he set out on this trip. </p><p>The first time he had mentioned to Geralt that it would be lovely to have some photographs together, and also of the places Geralt was seeing, to have as souvenirs, Geralt had thrown him a poorly masked baffled stare.</p><p>"Pictures? Like paintings? But they will take forever to make!"</p><p>"No, no, remember I showed you a couple of <em>photos</em> on my smartphone?"</p><p>"I have stopped keeping track of the things your <em>smartphone</em> can accomplish, Jas."</p><p>Jason had started to laugh, and Geralt had joined in. </p><p>Jason had asked a fellow tourist to click their picture while leaning against the ancient castle parapet, the blue waters visible behind them.</p><p>The tourist -- a young woman with a bright smile but who probably didn't speak English -- had gestured to them to come close together. </p><p>The two men had shyly shuffled towards each other until their shoulders touched, and they had stolen quick (and a little timid) smiling glances at each other.</p><p>But the girl threw them a knowing smile (she was having entirely too much fun now), and then gesticulated with her hands, indicating in no uncertain terms her wish that they put an arm around each other.</p><p>Jason had looked marginally mortified, sure that he was blushing. He had not been not sure if it would be too impertinent of him, whether he might be crossing a line here if he presumed to...</p><p>And his wandering mind had been snapped back to reality as he felt a strong, muscular arm go over his shoulder and gently but assertively pull him towards the extremely warm body of the Witcher standing next to him.</p><p>It was all Jason had been able to do to not melt into Geralt's body.</p><p>The woman had handed them back the camera and the picture. And with a lurch of his heart Jason saw the easy smile that pulled at Geralt's lips, and...</p><p>... <em>and the way his eyes were just a little bit downcast, staring down at Jason's head without him noticing ...</em></p><p>
  <em>... with nothing but adoration and tenderness shining in them...</em>
</p><p>Jason had handed Geralt the photo with a smile. And then fished out his smartphone from his trouser pocket to click a selfie together.</p><p>
  <em>Digital photos for himself, to take prints of later on and adorn his albums and bookcases with.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Instantly printed glossy polaroid photos for Geralt, to take with him when he left.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>After all, that was all that they would have left of each other in a few more days...</em>
</p><p>                                                                      ************************************************************************************************</p><p>By the time they had settled back inside the car to begin the journey homeward, Geralt was feeling a fullness of his heart he had not in a very long time.</p><p>Granted, there was the burden of weariness and pain, longing and sorrow -- but they were there to stay. A lost mate was never replaced by another, or by anyone else. Granted, there was worry about Ciri, yearning to see her and hold her -- hug his lion cub to his chest. Granted, there was the need to be back amidst his chosen family -- Yen, Triss, Vesemir, Eskel, Lambert. </p><p>And yet ... not denying any of these feelings but somehow burning no less fiercely than they did in his heart ... was <strong>love</strong>.</p><p>Love for the man who sat next to him, their arms almost touching. Love for the family said man had freely offered up to him -- who were, he knew, eagerly waiting to welcome them back, pamper them with a lovely dinner. Love for the way these people had accepted him, unconditionally showered their affection on him, made him one of their own. Without knowing pretty much anything about him.</p><p>And <strong>hope</strong>.</p><p>Perhaps he would not be alone again, after all. Perhaps Jaskier had been right all along. Jaskier in his heart, Jason by his side...</p><p>He was shaken from his fond contemplation (daydreaming?) by a soft hand on his arm.</p><p>"Geralt? Here are the rest of the photos."</p><p>Jason handed him a bunch -- most of them containing the two of them with their arms around each other (they had not needed further urging when they had requested fellow tourists to click the rest of the photos), eyes bright and jubilant, smiles plastered on their faces. The remaining were those of the castle, and the deep waters of the ocean stretching on as far as eyes could see, taken from the pier and the West Shore beach.</p><p>
  <em>If only it weren't just these photos I shall be taking with me when I go...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If only I could take this beautiful, brilliant, kind, loving, darling man with me as well...</em>
</p><p>He didn't know how to ask. He had never been good with words. Jaskier had urged him not to make Jason's choice for him, but Geralt didn't even know if there <em>was</em> a choice to make here ... if Yen and Triss could or even would acquiesce to having Jason come to his world with him.</p><p>"Hellooo? Where did you wander off to?"</p><p>Geralt smiled and shook his head mildly at the smiling man next to him.</p><p>"You know ... uh ... can I say something incredibly stupid?"</p><p>Geralt raised an eyebrow at the fidgeting Jason.</p><p>"You mean, something considerably stupider than all the things you say when you babble uncontrollably?"</p><p>"Hey!"</p><p>Jason smacked him on his arm, and both men doubled over, giggling.</p><p>"Yeah, probably", the younger man continued a few seconds later, and a note of wistfulness entered his voice, "I ... it's just that I can't help feeling that ... it would be absolutely wonderful to see your world. Walk through the portal with you."</p><p>Geralt saw Jason steal a nervous glance at him, but his own eyes remained intently focused on those cornflower-blue ones, drinking in every word. After a moment, the doctor continued.</p><p>"Helena says I read way too many fantasy novels. She says it's all trash, that it addles my brain. But it's not ... and I have always felt deep down that other universes, what some of us call parallel universes, do exist. And here you are -- my living, breathing proof. And now, my heart craves even more to", he seemed to be looking for the right words, "To sort of run away and see another, completely different, alien world with my own eyes. To travel there. To meet the people there. Get to know them. May be, you know, meet new, wonderful, magnificent animals too... like, um, dragons!"</p><p>He suddenly stopped and eyed Geralt, mouth pouting a little.</p><p>"You are thinking I am the biggest idiot you have ever seen, right?"</p><p>"On the contrary, dragons exist. However rare they may be", Geralt said, for some reason reaching out and clasping Jason's left hand in his right, intertwining their fingers and massaging his knuckles with his thumb, "I can tell you about a gold dragon I met, once, if you like."</p><p>Jason instantly, visibly brightened.</p><p>"Yes! Yes, I would love that! And...", the uncertain look was back, "Now that you have told me some things about yourself, about your home ... my heart pines even more to meet your loved ones. Meet Ciri -- she seems so ... so amazing! And Yen and Triss too. And of course, the other Witchers. I ... I just really want to meet all of them, and ... and get to know them closely", he was slightly stammering now, "Like ... like, you know, like family."</p><p>Geralt was not sure if his heart could handle it anymore. It was close to bursting at the seams already.</p><p>
  <em>How did we come so far? How did we end up here?</em>
</p><p>And the White Wolf -- the terrifying, looming, white-haired, golden-eyed Witcher who had spent the better part of a century quietly boasting to himself (and the scant people who bothered to inquire) how he was totally devoid of emotions -- took a shaky breath and reached out, cupping Jason's -- <em>his beloved Jason's</em> -- face in his left hand.</p><p>The doctor immediately closed his eyes and pressed his face into Geralt's palm, nuzzling. Their faces were close now, as were there rapidly breathing chests.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, how I wish we could stay like this forever...</em>
</p><p>"Do you really, really wish to come, Jas?"</p><p>Jason's eyes flitted between Geralt's gold ones. </p><p>"I do. I know I sound reckless, and perhaps even superficial. But trust me when I say, Geralt, right from a very young age, I have felt like I have this hole in my heart. There's supposed to be something there, but I can't seem to find anything that fits right in. And all these years...", the doctor's hand came up to caress Geralt's own where it rested on his cheek, "More than three decades ... I have searched, and I have come to believe it cannot be found. Not in this world."</p><p>Their eyes were riveted upon each other now, open and vulnerable.</p><p>"That is, until I met you. Until you appeared. And now, there is this voice, Geralt...", Jason clasped Geralt's hand and brought it to rest upon where his heart was, and Geralt felt he might swoon, feeling the organ beating there, calling to his own.</p><p>"This voice, that keeps telling me ... you are tantalizingly close to finding that missing piece of yours. Don't you dare let this go. Or you will be hollow for the rest of your years."</p><p>"Jason..."</p><p>"I know, Geralt, I know you will say, just like Helena did, that this is all a ridiculous figment of my stupid imagination. But trust me, please", Geralt almost winced at the note of desperate beseeching in his healer's voice, "This pull, it's so strong, Geralt, that I am helpless. I have no option but to yield. To give in completely. And for the life of me I cannot understand why it feels so damn good to lose this battle of control over my heart, Geralt. Why I feel so ecstatic to accept defeat, to surrender."</p><p>"Actually, Jas, I was going to tell you, that I believe you."</p><p>Jason's eyes, which had been creased in pain and looking slightly unfocused as he spoke the previous, impassioned words, now flicked up to Geralt's face.</p><p>"You do?"</p><p>And in a move that had both men reeling with a mixture of hope, love and giddy happiness, Geralt leaned forward and laid his head on Jason's shoulder, his arms encircling Jason's slender body in a warm embrace (returned a heartbeat later by Jason's arms tightly hugging Geralt).</p><p>"I do. Because I feel the same."</p><p>                                                                 ***************************************************************************************</p><p>Dinner had been as scrumptious and as full of lively chitchat and laughter as the past couple of days. </p><p>Geralt sat opposite Jason (he vaguely suspected this was not entirely accidental, judging by the looks the family members were occasionally throwing the pair), and they kept stealing glances at each other. All a little shy, a little hesitant, with smiles that seemed to warm each other's hearts.</p><p>At one point, Anton (who Geralt had decided was somewhat louder than the rest) started making some risque jokes (after Joshua had whisked Katie and Karen off to bed, then come back to join the group), and Geralt supplied a few of his own, making Jason stare at him in abject horror that reduced everyone at the table to fits of laughter.</p><p>"I like this one, Jas", said a very slightly inebriated Anton, "He is great! Way better than that stupid, jackass Aahad."</p><p>The laughter quietened considerably. Joshua tried to surreptitiously (but not surreptitiously enough for a Witcher) nudge Anton in the ribs with his elbow, but the oldest son of the family was oblivious.</p><p>"Absolute horrid arse, that one was. Left you bleeding, damn it... if I could get my hands on that rascal... breaking my baby brother's heart..."</p><p>Geralt knew his frame had gone rigid. He knew that he was trying not to make Jason feel that the amber-eyed gaze now trained on the doctor was a glare, and he knew he was failing.</p><p>
  <em>So possessive, White Wolf!</em>
</p><p>Jason seemed to have shrunk. He raised a very hesitant, abashed, slightly fearful gaze up at the Witcher, then hastily dropped his eyes back towards his dessert.</p><p>"Anton, drop it you dolt!", Gemma reprimanded.</p><p>"No, why should I? That scoundrel got away with no punishment whatsoever! Heck, even Helena couldn't guess what he was inside, and she is the cleverest of our lot! And the things he said to Jas..."</p><p>Geralt saw Anton's jaws clench, and he knew his own face was mirroring that.</p><p>
  <em>Someone hurt Jas. Someone dared to hurt my Jas.</em>
</p><p>"Anton, that's enough. Come on", Joshua hauled his brother-in-law to his feet from the chair, then started maneuvering him towards his bedroom.</p><p>"Garry", Anton reached out and clasped Geralt's shoulder while walking by his chair, "I know you are a better man than that, mate."</p><p>With that, he left.</p><p>"Garry", a voice to his side called, and he tore his eyes off from where Anton and Joshua had disappeared down the hallway.</p><p>"Fancy a walk?", asked Helena.</p><p>                                                                                 **************************************************************************</p><p>The beach looked beautiful in the scant starlight. </p><p>The two people walked closer to the rippling waves, the ocean beyond looking ethereal and forbidding in the dark, with wisps of silver appearing and disappearing where the starlight touched the waters.</p><p>Geralt's hair was loose -- he had planned to tie it later, leaving the leather cord in his bedroom upstairs. He now regretted it, as the rather strong gale that blew whipped all his hair into his face and eyes.</p><p>"Here", offered Helena, simply taking off a blue hair-tie that she had wound around her wrist, "You can keep it."</p><p>
  <em>So easy. So straightforward. Just like that, they give to me, without me ever having to ask for anything.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just like that, a bond of trust is formed.</em>
</p><p>Geralt took it with a thanks, then tied up his hair.</p><p>
  <em>While missing someone else's soft hands tying them up in a pony-tail.</em>
</p><p>"Did you and Jas talk today?"</p><p>"Yes. Quite a lot, actually."</p><p>"That's good. But did he tell you anything about himself? You know, the not-so-delightful parts?"</p><p>He frowned.</p><p>"No, Helena. Will you?"</p><p>"It's not my place to spill all his secrets. But I also know that you deserve to know. At least some of  it. Enough for you two to move forward together from a stable-enough footing."</p><p>"Thank you."</p><p>"You see, Garry", she seemed to be thinking how best to arrange her sentences, "All of us: myself, Gemma, Anton, even Joshua, are orphans. Lucy and her late husband Arthur took us three siblings in from orphanages across the UK. All except Jason."</p><p>Geralt waited.</p><p>"Jason was taken from, well, from a gang of ... ruffians. Hardcore criminals. They were going to traffic him, but the police caught them and took the children into safe custody."</p><p>"Traffic him?"</p><p>The word was totally foreign to him., and he hoped that Helena would explain, chalking this question up to Geralt's supposed memory-loss.</p><p>"Yes. Smuggle him off somewhere else. Him and a few other kids. To be ... well, to be some sort of slaves."</p><p>Geralt was not sure when he had stopped walking, his frame ramrod straight and rigid with rage he was finding extremely hard to contain.</p><p>A light hand touched his shoulder, rubbing a bit, "Breathe, Garry. He is okay now. He is safe."</p><p>He couldn't breathe.</p><p>Another hand now came up to rub circles on his back. </p><p>"Garry, I promise he is safe now. Please, breathe. Your Jas is okay."</p><p>Slowly, gradually, the rage calmed, the shoulders became less tense.</p><p>"How?", he asked, "How did he fall into their hands?"</p><p>"He didn't. He was sold."</p><p>He blinked at her, confused.</p><p>"By his parents."</p><p>And just like that, his ears were ringing again. </p><p>Helena's face was twisted in a painful grimace. "His parents were abusive. They were alcoholics and gamblers, and they fought with each other, and usually ended up venting their fury upon Jas."</p><p>
  <em>Oh Melitele, can it not be that at least one person -- one person dear to me -- had a happy childhood?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Here I was, thinking I had it worst. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>All the while my Jas was being hit, being hurt by his own parents.</em>
</p><p>"At some point of time, they sold him off to the leader of that gang. Probably for money."</p><p>They had seated themselves on the sand now, both feeling weary.</p><p>"Sometimes", Helena spoke again after a long pause, "Not always, but sometimes, a person who has received nothing but rejections, neglect, abuse and scorn, decides to be a beacon of light and hope for everyone else. Perhaps because they have seen the manifestations of the darkest, most depraved aspects of the human soul."</p><p>Helena smiled, a touch rueful.</p><p>"Jas was always like that, you know. Right from the start. Gem and Anton say it to this day ... how, when the scrawny, malnourished kid had been rescued and brought home by Lucy and Arthur, he was scared and hesitant, yes, but also incredibly loving. Incredibly giving. As if he was determined to shine like a sun and dispel the darkness from everyone else's life. Make sure no one ever suffered a fraction of how he did."</p><p>"I know", came the Witcher's quiet but utterly sincere response. Because he did. Truly.</p><p>"But life keeps throwing him the nastiest surprises, you know."</p><p>"This ... Aahad ... this man -- how long back was it?"</p><p>"It started around three years back. Aahad broke it off a little over a year ago."</p><p>"What did he do? To Jas?"</p><p>Helena sighed.</p><p>"I'll tell you what I think is right for me to. Aahad lured Jason in with his charm. Even we fell for it. He had come to Jas distraught because of personal reasons -- they had known each other from their college days -- and he needed comfort. Who better to provide it but my kindhearted brother? They became very intimate. Jas even thought that this was it... he would propose, they would get married..."</p><p>
  <em>The White Wolf's heart howled with blinding fury at the thought of Jason belonging with another. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To another.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Being in someone else's arms, someone else's bed...</em>
</p><p>"What did he do?", the question came out more as a menacing growl.</p><p>"When Jas proposed, Aahad spurned him. Told him..."</p><p>"What did he say, Helena?"</p><p>"Told him he was not good enough. That Jas was a fool. A ... a worthless, whiny person."</p><p>Witchers weren't supposed to feel anything, much less have their blood boil. Much less wish they had an iron rod in their hands to warp and twist...</p><p>... or better yet, the neck of a certain vile snake of a man named Aahad ...</p><p>"Garry?"</p><p>He was seeing red, but he tried to calm down a bit as he looked at Helena. </p><p>"You do care for my brother, don't you?"</p><p>Geralt's eyes blazed into her face.</p><p>
  <em>I have experienced, first hand, with Jaskier, with Yennefer, what happens when I cannot communicate my sincerest feelings.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>When I let others interpret my cryptic, half-formed answers, my non-committal grunts.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have suffered, and others have suffered, because of it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And Jaskier has taught me ... taught me all these years ... to become a better man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And I'll be <strong>damned</strong> if I make that same mistake again. With Jason.</em>
</p><p>He looked straight into the young woman's eyes, and made sure every syllable counted.</p><p>"I love your brother, Helena."</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Of confessions, kisses and flowers to speak my heart out to you</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Finally! FINALLY! The two idiots have moved past holding hands and confessing love and adoration and loyalty towards each other, to the next step :-D Phew, took the boys long enough ha ha :-D Read on to find out what progress they have made in this 7th chapter... </p><p>They also manage to open up to each other more about the more painful aspects of their lives a little bit. Because this is no less important a step in a budding relationship. And of course, Lucy and the rest of the family are there to help, always. </p><p>Please let me know how you enjoyed the adventure that the two men have in this particular chapter, which talks about the 4th day of their stay in North Wales together :-)</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In the meantime, I had to do some "research" on the Internet regarding floriography (it's quite interesting, and should you be interested to, here is a link I loved: http://www.allflorists.co.uk/advice_flowerMeanings.asp) in order to write this chapter :-)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Good morning!"</p><p>Jason looked up from where he was curled up on a deckchair in the porch with his book, trying to stifle a yawn, and smiled.</p><p>"Hey you... morning!"</p><p>Geralt sat down beside him, and Jason briefly wondered how on earth the man managed to look quite this delectable even when it was evident he had just woken up, with a ridiculous case of bedhead tangling up all his gorgeous white hair.</p><p>"You're up early today!"</p><p>"I, um, couldn't sleep very well", Jason admitted in a small voice.</p><p>"Last night's dinner conversations on your mind?"</p><p>Jason heaved a sigh. He had not expected to escape this discussion. He should not even wish to escape this, given how serious he was about his intentions towards Geralt (and vice versa, unless he was completely mistaken about the Witcher).</p><p>"How much did Helena tell you?"</p><p>"Wait", Geralt said, "I made coffee."</p><p>"You <em>what</em>?!!"</p><p>Geralt let out an amused chuckle, "Witchers learn fast, doctor."</p><p>Five minutes later, Geralt walked out balancing a tray in his hands, laden with a couple of mugs, the steaming coffee pot, milk and sugar, and ...</p><p>"You hounded out Lucy's secret stash of butter cookies?!!"</p><p>A few months back, the family physician had issued a dire warning that Lucy must stay away from all manners of high-sugar-content food (she hadn't taken more than a morsel or two of the desserts they had been making for dinners), and that meant staying away from cookies, which Jason had jokingly termed "the true love of Ma's life". Gemma, who lived close by and dropped by to check on Lucy once every couple of days, had strictly forbidden Lucy from buying or baking any kind of cookie whatsoever from then onward.</p><p>Well, she had tried to. Lucy, of course, had found ways to sneak in cookies from the nearby farmer's market, and hide them too well for Gemma to suspect anything.</p><p>"Witcher sense of smell is quite a powerful thing, my darling", Geralt threw Jason a wink and a cheeky smile.</p><p>Jason felt like his heart was determined to escape his rib-cage in a frenzied sequence of frog-leaps.</p><p>
  <em>What did he just call me?!</em>
</p><p>The Witcher had by then poured the coffee, added milk and sugar to Jason's, and was now diligently stirring it, the cheeky grin still not completely disappeared.</p><p>
  <em>Bastard knows exactly what he is doing to my poor heart...</em>
</p><p>
  <em>See if I let it affect me...</em>
</p><p>"Ma will be mad at you, and if Gem sees that..."</p><p>"I believe that neither my mother nor my sister can stay <em>that</em> mad at me for long."</p><p>Jason was pretty sure his heart had now stopped leaping around and started to melt.</p><p>"So you chose this family to be yours?"</p><p>"Of course. They are my Jas' family, after all."</p><p>
  <em>My Jas.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh, what would he not give to listen to this voice calling him "My Jas" every single day for the rest of his days...</em>
</p><p>Geralt took a small (dainty, Jason thought) sip from his mug, staring out over the flower-garden to where the sudden void and open skies indicated the presence of the ocean.</p><p>"My mother was a sorceress. Visenna."</p><p>Jason shuffled a bit, trying to get closer to his Witcher's body-warmth, with anticipation for more stories about his beloved’s life. Geralt sensed that and immediately scooted his own chair closer until their arms were pressed against each other. Jason automatically found himself resting his head on Geralt's shoulder, and Geralt in turn rested his cheek on top of Jason's hair.</p><p>"She was ... absolutely beautiful. Fiery red hair. Eyes that shone with knowledge and cleverness… But not kindness."</p><p>Jason frowned, worry weaving its way into his mind as he heard the note of sadness, of unfulfilled longing in Geralt's voice. </p><p>"She was my world, you know. I have never known my father. Never needed to ask for his identity. Because Visenna was everything I ever needed. We lived in this tiny cottage, right where the mountains rose sheer from the valley beneath. The village was a little ways off. We used to plant vegetables and fruits all around the house. Used to go off into the forests lining the mountains to collect berries. Visenna could hunt very well. She used to bring rabbits and venison home. And we would buy fresh bread, milk and cheese from the village."</p><p>"That sounds magical, Geralt! So wonderful! You were so fortunate to have someone like her, and she you, sweetheart."</p><p>Geralt snorted a laugh, looking down at their hands clasped snugly around each other.</p><p>"Yeah, totally magical. One day, she told me that we had to go to someplace far away, for some business of hers I was too little to understand. And I remember how I was jumping in excitement as I climbed onto the back of our oxcart. I was such a talkative child. Kept chattering all the way..."</p><p>"You, talkative?", Jason looked up at Geralt in mock-incredulity.</p><p>"Yes", the Witcher smirked, "I find it hard to believe that too, at times, trust me. But yeah ... yeah I was. As a child I was ... happy. Way too jolly. Giggling and prattling on all the time."</p><p>"I love this baby Geralt already. Despite the fact that the grumpy, grouchy adult one has robbed me of my heart."</p><p>They squeezed each other's hands, chests rising and falling in unison as they both tried to revel in this moment, in each other's warmth.</p><p>"After a while, she stopped the cart. Asked me to fetch a pail of water. I was always ready to help Visenna. Always ready to be at the beck and call of my dearest Ma. So I ran, deeper into the thickets lining the road, in search of the stream I could hear gurgling."</p><p>Geralt paused, closing his eyes as if re-living the past.</p><p>"When I came back, the road was empty."</p><p>Jason sat up with a violent start, almost spilling the coffee down his front.</p><p>"What?"</p><p>"Visenna was gone. Vanished. I was left alone on that unfamiliar road. I was barely five at the time."</p><p>"Geralt..."</p><p>"Little did I know that I had been left there for a purpose. At the doorsteps of Kaer Morhen itself. To be picked up by Vesemir."</p><p>Geralt had yet to look at Jason. His gaze lingered above the ground, seeing nothing. Jason felt something clawing at his heart, pain spreading through his chest. </p><p>
  <em>How could she?</em>
</p><p>"Witchers are mutants. This mutation is incorporated into our systems via ... well, via procedures that are, let's just say, not pleasant. We are made to consume alchemical potions that are toxic to the human body. Our eyes, bone marrow, hormones are completely altered to make us way, way more resilient than normal humans, giving us better night vision, better reflexes, higher speeds. Not to mention grueling routines of physical training that would break the bodies of many boys."</p><p>Jason was close to tears now, and Geralt's eyes were shining with unshed ones, both men breathing in rapid, shallow bursts.</p><p>"Three out of ten boys survive the trials that result in the birth of a Witcher. Visenna was aware of that. But what does the life of a bastard son mean, anyway? Especially to a sorceress tied to no one? So disposable, so ... unnecessary."</p><p>Jason threw his arms around Geralt and buried his face into the broad, warm chest, his body shaking as sobs racked through him, and tears moistened the front of Geralt's nightshirt. </p><p>The Witcher slowly, lovingly brought his arms around the doctor's quivering body, drawing him close, as if wanting to hide Jason away inside himself forever. He ran his hands up and down Jason's back, unable to say anything as his own tears dripped down on to the doctor's hair.</p><p>Several minutes passed like that.</p><p>"Colby and Jessica … my father and mother … they were both addicts. Alcoholics, chain smokers, did drugs", Jason mumbled from where his face was still pressed into Geralt's chest, hiccuping a bit after his sobs had quieted down.</p><p>Geralt pried his lover off his chest gently with his arms and made him sit up, looking intently into his face while firmly holding on to his arms to anchor him.</p><p>"I wasn't meant to be born. An unwanted burden of a child. We lived in a sordid neighbourhood, in a dark alley. They kept me locked up in an old, musty room, refused to feed me. My father", Jason couldn't help the wobble in his lips, "Beat me with his belt. Sometimes hit me in the head till I blacked out. Mother didn't beat me up, but didn't care either. She used to say that I disgusted her."</p><p>Jason paused. Geralt took this opportunity to fish out another butter cookie and hold it in front of Jason, his look making it clear he absolutely insisted Jason eat it. Jason took it, biting off a corner, then took the mug Geralt was now holding out to him to sip a bit of the sweetened coffee.</p><p>"Once, I found the door unlocked, and escaped. I had not seen the sunlight for more than a week, hadn't been fed anything for the past couple of days. I had nothing with me. No money, no idea where to go. I was so hungry, you know. Someone -- a seedy-looking person lured me in with the promise of food. Before I knew, I was trussed up and roughly dragged back to my parents. The brute who took me back -- he ... he offered my parents money to take me off their hands. He said I would 'fetch a good price'. They struck a deal. He took me away, to some kind of dungeon."</p><p>Jason didn't need Witcher senses to feel the waves of fury rolling off Geralt's body.</p><p>"I found four other children there. We were around six to eight years of age. The man, Dawson – we found out his name soon after – kept us confined to that dark cellar, but he didn't beat us, and fed us twice a day. Said we had to be 'kept fit for the customers'. Said it was a pity he couldn't ... you know ... couldn't touch us, defile us."</p><p>Geralt let out something like a low roar.</p><p>"If the police had not carried out a surprise raid on that house one night, hadn't discovered us in the dungeon ..."</p><p>Jason shivered, and Geralt cupped his face and pulled him closer, pressing their foreheads together.</p><p>"If I could lay my hands on all those monsters who hurt you, Jas…”, he growled, dire promise of retribution dripping from his tone.</p><p>“And Jas”, Geralt’s voice somehow became even deeper, “As long as I am alive, I shall let no one hurt you so. Ever again.”</p><p>Jason opened his eyes and looked straight into the molten, fiery pools of gold.</p><p>“Anyone even <em>thinking</em> of hurting you will have to go through me first. Before they can reach you.”</p><p>And Jason knew, in that moment, without an ounce of doubt remaining in his once-anxious heart…</p><p>
  <em>… that Geralt loved him…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…with every cell of his body…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…would love him until the end of both of their days…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…and this was it – this was the moment from when onward their lives were tied to each other forevermore ...</em>
</p><p>And before he knew, his lips were on his White Wolf’s.</p><p>A part of Jason laughed. Because all these days, Jason had imagined this moment countless times, in countless different ways and settings, and every time, he had feared rejection. Feared that Geralt would pull away. Would shove the lovesick doctor away from himself.</p><p>Not for once could he have imagined … </p><p>
  <em>… the way his Witcher immediately returned the kiss…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…his soft yet commanding lips moulding perfectly with Jason’s…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…deepening the kiss until the younger man swooned…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…before he nipped on Jason’s lower lip…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…making the doctor moan and open his mouth slightly…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>…but enough for the Witcher to enter his tongue and explore his lover’s mouth, relishing his taste…</em>
</p><p>As Jason’s fingers ran through Geralt’s hair, caressing, massaging, slightly tugging at the tresses, Geralt’s large, too-warm hands hungrily rubbed all over Jason’s back and exposed neck, waking fire like Jason had never felt before in his pliant, craving body.</p><p>Both men were emitting soft, helpless moans, not wanting to let go of each other yet quite aware that they needed to part for a little bit to draw breath.</p><p>Eventually, they reluctantly broke the kiss, panting heavily, holding on to each other’s shoulders and arms. </p><p>“I love you.”</p><p>Plain, simple, without fuss, without verbosity, without beating around the bush. Jason looked at his Witcher’s raw, open expression, and couldn’t help pulling him down to place a soft kiss on his forehead.</p><p>“I love you too, Geralt.”</p><p>                                              ******************************</p><p>Once breakfast was over, Geralt walked out on to the porch and found Lucy and Gemma kneeling around one of the flowerbeds, busily ploughing up the soil with trowels to plant new seeds in it.</p><p>“Garry”, Gemma said, looking up at him with a bright smile, “You should go get ready, and grab Jas too. We are all going to the farmer’s market soon.”</p><p>“Sure, in a moment, Gemma. Can I help you two?”</p><p>“Sure, son. You can sit here and keep us entertained with conversations as we work.”</p><p>Geralt smiled and sat down, not minding the wet soil now sticking to his trousers.</p><p>“So”, Gemma began, a smirk playing around on her lips, “You two had a nice time talking while gobbling up Ma’s cookies?” </p><p>Both Lucy and Geralt started and stared at her, looking a bit like slightly mortified children caught with their hands in the cookie jar (almost literally, in this case).</p><p>Lucy laughed, “Oh come on, I am not stupid. Ma, this is the one time I have allowed it, because of the family get-together. Don’t get used to it.”</p><p>Lucy grumbled under her breath, while Geralt looked appropriately abashed. </p><p>“I love the way Jas just brightens up even more than usual when he is around you. He is so sunny to begin with, but you…”, Gemma looked at Geralt adoringly, “You make him the happiest, Garry.”</p><p>Geralt felt he might tear up. </p><p>“I am the lucky one, Gem.”</p><p>“You are both lucky. Both fortunate”, said Lucy.</p><p>Geralt smiled at her, but couldn’t keep out the hint of sadness from his tone, “And both very damaged.”</p><p>Without missing a beat, Lucy nodded. “Yes, both. Both broken, both damaged. And both absolutely beautiful.”</p><p>“Ma…”</p><p>“Do you know how beautiful broken people are, Garry? They are the ones who have battled adversities, suffered, endured pain, seen the dark side, and then emerged out into the light. Stronger, more resilient, more willing to live life to the fullest. Kinder and more willing to help others. Wearing their scars proudly. Never giving up.”</p><p>Geralt leaned into the touch as Lucy cupped his face, closing his eyes and letting her words wash over him.</p><p>“And from now on, you two – my beautiful, broken angels – will take care of each other.”</p><p>                                               ***********************</p><p>Geralt had silently reached out and taken Jason’s hand in his own, right before entering the market.</p><p>They strolled around the stalls together, enjoying looking at, and sometimes tasting freely offered samples of, fresh or aged cheese of myriad varieties, home-baked fresh breads and cakes with chocolates and berries, bright-coloured summer produce, fresh-baked pies, smoked fish and oysters. Geralt seemed to be enjoying the various hard cheeses the most, and explained to Jason how hardened cheese and dried meat were often the only things that would keep for days as Witchers traveled the more remote parts of the Continent, seeking monsters to eliminate. </p><p>The others were trailing a little behind, with Lucy pausing to buy fresh veggies and fruits, and Gemma and Helena trying to dissuade Katie and Karen from bouncing with excitement and knocking off merchandise as they begged the elders for chocolates and candies.</p><p>“Jason, is that you, my boy?”</p><p>The two lovers whirled around to find a middle-aged woman with a kind, wrinkled face, beaming up at them.</p><p>“Amy!”</p><p>“Come here, m’boy, come here! Haven’t seen you in forever…”</p><p>“How <em>are</em> you, Amy?”</p><p>The woman pulled Jason into a hug, then suddenly caught sight of Geralt, and extending her arms, pulled the shocked Witcher into the hug as well.</p><p>“Is this a new friend, Jason, darling?”</p><p>“Y-yes, Amy”, Jason stuttered, blushing a tiny bit. Which, unfortunately, Amy did not miss.</p><p>Her eyes immediately perked up with a knowing smile and she turned her full attention on the now-slightly-alarmed-looking Geralt.</p><p>“I’m Amy, sweetheart.”</p><p>“Hello Amy. I’m Garry.”</p><p>“Amy here is a florist, the best in town”, Jason offered,“She is also an expert in floriography.”</p><p>“I beg your pardon, but flo-rio-graphy…”</p><p>“Oh!”, the woman tut-tutted, “Most do not know much about this, Garry, m’boy. It’s the language of flowers.”</p><p>“The language of flowers?!”</p><p>Jason knew Geralt was wondering whether this was yet another technological innovation this particular world had accomplished, and suppressed a snicker.</p><p>Amy, on the other hand, was continuing her lecture, leading them deeper inside her stall filled with row upon row of potted plants, most bearing brilliantly hued, vibrant flowers.</p><p>“It’s a language encoded in flowers. Each flower is assigned a specific meaning, or a collection of meanings. It’s been around for thousands of years, of course varying from one culture and region to another. Often became useful in the courts of medieval rulers, to convey messages in secrecy. Here”, she held out a bunch of vivid crimson chrysanthemums, “Guess what this one means?”</p><p>Jason had no idea about floriography whatsoever, despite visiting Amy’s stall throughout his childhood and adolescent years, and Geralt… well, Geralt had just learned of the existence of this concept.</p><p>Amy didn’t mind their lack of enthusiasm at even guessing an answer, though.</p><p>“It means, ‘I love you’, m’boys.”</p><p>Both men turned a bright shade of pink.</p><p>Amy giggled, then glided forward, her two listeners following her a tad warily.</p><p>“Now this one here”, she paused, wiggling her eyebrows at them as she pointed to a lovely flower Jason recognized as pink camellia, “Says ‘I long for you’.”</p><p>The men swallowed thickly.</p><p>“Right next to it, right here, ah yes, this one … this one is the scarlet cousin of the previous one. This one says, ‘You are a flame in my heart’.”</p><p>The doctor and the Witcher were trying so hard to avoid each other’s eyes that they feared they might end up with cricks in their necks.</p><p>“Come, come, this way…”, Amy was enjoying herself way too much for her own good, “These two – this deep magenta coxcomb, and these adorable globe amaranth blossoms – I placed them side by side since they both denote ‘Unfading love’.”</p><p>It was a marvel that Jason couldn’t yet see any wisp of steam coming out of his or Geralt’s ears.</p><p>“Of course, I expect you two know what this one means”, Amy pointed towards the four-leaved clover.</p><p>“Amy…”</p><p>“It says, ‘Be mine’”, she smiled cheekily at the men.</p><p>Jason feared that if Geralt turned any deeper a shade of pink, he might just stay that way for the rest of his life. And judging by the heat he felt on his own cheeks, he was not faring much better.</p><p>“Daisies and lavenders, of course, signify loyal love and devotion”, Amy moved past those with apparent disinterest.</p><p>“Now this one”, she paused for dramatic effect, while picking up a coral-coloured double-rose, “This one means desire.”</p><p>“Thanks, Amy, we really should go…”</p><p>“Nonsense, Jason, we have just begun.”</p><p>Jason had a hard time suppressing the giggle threatening to burst forth upon seeing the look of sheer consternation on the Witcher’s face.</p><p>“Do you like tulips, Garry? These red ones? They speak of love, lust and desire.”</p><p>Geralt looked like he wanted the ground to suddenly split open and swallow him up, right then and there.</p><p>“Oh and my personal favourite, the phloxes”, she indicated the clusters of baby-pink blossoms with the deep fuchsia-pink centres, “When you gift these to another”, her eyes moved from Geralt to Jason, “You say to them, ‘Our souls are united, forever’.”</p><p>“Amy!”</p><p>Helena’s voice behind them was the only thing that prevented the two men from bolting from that spot.</p><p>“Helena, my darling!”</p><p>“Heard you wrote a book recently, on floriography?”</p><p>“Oh my, yes, and it became mighty popular too, my sweetie.”</p><p>“Do you have a copy around? I would love to buy one.”</p><p>In the end, the three stepped out of the shop, the two men looking equal parts scandalized, incredulous and mildly terrorized…</p><p>…Helena clutching the book…</p><p>…Geralt carrying a small bouquet that comprised bright yellow primroses interspersed with magenta zinnias and pink carnations…</p><p>…and Jason carrying another small bouquet, adorned with vibrant blue forget-me-nots, paler bluish-purple pulmonaria and tiny, delicate white chickweed flowers.</p><p>Amy had insisted that she help her three darling customers <em>separately</em>, meaning that the others weren’t allowed to be anywhere within earshot while she personally assisted them in choosing their customized bouquets.</p><p>When they had put some distance between the florist’s shop and themselves, Helena turned around at the two still-somewhat-pink-in-the-face men.</p><p>“Here, this book is a gift from me, to the two of you. For this new journey together. Happy adventures, folks!”</p><p>She drew the two much taller men into a ridiculous group hug, then let them go.</p><p>“Now go ahead and exchange those silly bouquets and let’s get out of here. I’m so ravenous I might eat this whole market for lunch…”</p><p>She turned and stalked away towards where the others had gathered to buy some freshly made buttered popcorn.</p><p>“Alright, let’s do this”, Jason tried his best nonchalant tone.</p><p>He held up his bouquet towards Geralt. </p><p>“The forget-me-nots are kind of self-explanatory”, he smiled sheepishly, “Faithfulness, true love, remembrance. Please do not forget me, Geralt.”</p><p>Geralt’s eyes seemed to be lapping up every line, every contour of the doctor’s face like a man denied water for days on end.</p><p>“The chickweeds here – they say to you from me, ‘I cling to thee’. Because, well … I have hopelessly, irrevocably lost my heart, to you. And these lungworts – they say, ‘Thou art my life’.”</p><p>Geralt reached forward and took the bouquet from Jason, briefly brushing his fingers on the back of Jason’s hand. Then, he placed his own bouquet upon Jason’s extended palm.</p><p>“The scarlet zinnias say to you that my affection for you will last forever, Jas. The carnations speak of how I can never, ever forget you. Not that it should come as any surprise to you, my love”, the Witcher spoke, voice heavy with emotions.</p><p> “And the primroses … well, the primroses say that I cannot live without you.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. A song to tell you how much I need you, until you make me yours forever</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Oh my gosh I can't believe I wrote what I wrote in this chapter! I mean, how does one feel so happy, so satisfied, and so utterly mortified at the same time!!!! I TRULY HOPE YOU ALL LOVE THIS CHAPTER... </p><p>So, in this chapter: a) the White Wolf makes sure his human knows what it feels like to be intimate with him, <br/>b) he helps in setting up and attends a barbecue party, <br/>c) he listens to Jason singing his heart out to him -- that too an actual song which is not in English, but in fact, a Punjabi song (my personal favourite) that talks of discovering one's god in one's beloved (you can listen to a rendition here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eJkSdp6T8Oo)<br/>d) Jason and Geralt swim together and lie underneath the moonlit sky, floating in the midst of the ocean (CAN YOU BELIEVE THAT!)<br/>e) and while surrounded by the ocean, completely alone, Geralt demonstrates to Jason just how much he loves his human (wink ;-) ).</p><p>PLEASE PLEASE READ AND REVIEW EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I AM SO FRIGGING EXCITED :-D :-D</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The reason for including a Punjabi song is that, a rubab is really an instrument that can rarely accompany many Western songs I have heard. And I chose rubab as Jason's instrument because rubab is something that resembles the lute rather closely, and the lute was Jaskier's instrument. So yeah, I wanted to rake my brains and choose a song that 1) goes well with the rubab and 2) actually expresses how much Jason truly surrenders to Geralt's love, just as Destiny has intended :-)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jason cracked an eyelid open, basking in the soothing warmth of the early morning sunshine filtering through the open windows…</p><p>…and the luxuriating feeling of having his face snuggled between the shoulder blades of a certain someone’s extremely warm back, breathing in the heady scent of his body through the light fabric of his nightshirt, one arm draped over his waist and pressed to his muscular chest, anchored there by a large, calloused palm…</p><p>
  <em>Oh how I could get used to waking up like this every single morning …</em>
</p><p>
  <em>… well, may be without our bodies being fully clad in night-garments …</em>
</p><p>He wanted to stay like this for as long as possible, and so, despite his bladder screaming at him to be relieved, he kept himself pressed to Geralt’s body, trying not to move so as not to wake up the Witcher.</p><p>Fondly, he recalled the incidents of the night before that had led to this.</p><p>
  <em>There was a soft knock on his door, and Jason, who had just brushed his teeth and donned his pyjamas and his favourite, worn-out, loose cotton T-shirt, opened it …</em>
</p><p>
  <em>… to find his beloved, white-haired, amber-eyed person leaning against the doorframe, all lithe and agile (and a bit predatory) like a lounging leopard, smiling smugly at the doctor.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Woah! Hello there, handsome!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt’s smirk widened into a cocky grin.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“This book”, he held up Helena’s gift, which Jason had graciously asked the Witcher to keep for himself, “It’s not bad, you know.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jason quirked an eyebrow.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You knocked on my door at eleven ‘o’clock in the night to talk about ‘A Trail to Hike Through Floriography’?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why? You would like me to come up with some other excuse?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jason gulped, his stomach disobeying all stern commands and breaking into a mad jig.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And before he could articulate a sufficiently clever comeback, he was being forced into a hasty retreat back inside his room as his beloved White Wolf stalked into the room and swung the door shut with a click, pressing his back to it and cutting off all routes of escape.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Oh shit!</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>I am so done for…</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt slightly tilted his head, his grin growing even wider, regarding the slightly panting, wide-eyed and weak-kneed doctor from head to toe just as a real wolf would its prey.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Then he pretended to look around the room, and the bed in front of him, and said, mischief coating his voice, “Hmm, I like this room. Much better than my own. I think I would like to sleep in this bed tonight.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And with that, he crossed the distance between the door and the bed and, with a dramatic swish that made Jason roll his eyes, lowered himself onto the mattress, stretching languidly like a wildcat.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Scooting away, he patted the space next to him.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh you don’t have to stand there all night. You can lie down too. There’s enough space for the two of us.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jason tried to glare at the Witcher with as much heat as his poor human heart could muster while at the same time flapping around like a frantic hummingbird inside his rib-cage.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt was enjoying this way too much. “Oh, don’t be shy. I am quite generous. I totally don’t mind this cute, chubby human sharing my bed.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Did the bastard just call me chubby??</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jason huffed and nearly stomped his way onto the bed.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Can’t believe you are getting away with this… just because my poor heart has decided to live out the rest of its existence in your rib-cage, you huge white-haired lummox…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>So much for being able to finish sentences.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Geralt’s lips crashed onto his, shutting out all words (and coherent thoughts). Eyes fluttering closed, the poor doctor could only grapple with the Witcher, who was currently pinning him down with his weight, for a few seconds until he knew it was a lost cause.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The kiss deepened, and Jason felt his heart would burst from the joy and giddiness. Geralt’s heated touch was almost too much for him to bear, and he longed to make the fabric separating that touch from his flushed skin disappear, but he knew the Witcher would take as much time with him as he pleased.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He felt a tendril of thrill as he realized that Geralt was as responsive, as receptive to his touches as he was to the Witcher’s.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>The men explored each other’s mouths, memorizing the tastes, repeated moans filling the air. Slowly Geralt broke off their impassioned, breathless kisses and looked down at the panting, disheveled doctor with lips swollen from the prolonged attention they had received, and Jason felt his heart lurch as the White Wolf’s gaze darkened with unbridled love and lust.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Slowly, tenderly, Geralt lifted Jason’s chin with his thumb and forefinger and slightly tilted the younger man’s face, exposing his entire throat to his hungry amber-eyed gaze.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jason knew he had no choice but to oblige. And somehow, his heart positively reveled in the helplessness of it all.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And when Geralt’s soft lips started pressing hot, wet kisses on the delicate skin of his throat that already ached for the Witcher’s love, starting with the sensitive patch of skin at the back of his ear and trailing down to his collarbone, Jason couldn’t help but arch up, eager for even more of his lover’s ministrations. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>But he didn’t want to be the only one in the room moaning and writhing under his lover’s kisses, nibbles, sucking and sensual touches.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His hands forsook their hungry wandering over Geralt’s back and through his now completely loose and cascading curtain of hair, to swiftly undo the top two buttons of the Witcher’s nightshirt, exposing a sliver of that absolutely delicious, muscular chest. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He placed his palms on Geralt’s chest and pushed gently, fully knowing that he would not be able to move the Witcher an inch if the Witcher did not want him to.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Geralt instantly knew what Jason intended, and without further ado, let the doctor flip him over on his back.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was Jason’s turn to hungrily attack the exposed throat, chest and clavicles of his lover. Geralt, he realized with yet another surge of adrenaline through his overheated system, was not just receptive, he was letting Jason take over … eyes closed, breaths rapid, lips slightly parted and moaning the doctor’s name as Jason’s lips, tongue and teeth ravaged the almost feverishly-hot skin…</em>
</p><p>Jason barely suppressed an ‘mmmm’ of utter contentment as he relived the memories of last night. Though, on second thoughts, he had to admit that he wished it hadn’t quite ended the way it did.</p><p>
  <em>The moment Jason tried to straddle his seemingly pliant lover, fully intending to undo the remaining buttons of the Witcher’s light blue nightshirt and tug it off, Geralt firmly took hold of the doctor’s waist and put him back on the bed, on his side, right next to himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Oh no no no, not so fast, my beloved!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why?”, Jason pouted, and Geralt sniggered.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Well, because, there is so much fun in waiting, in building up our need for each other”, the Wolf’s voice became even deeper and sensual, “Because there is such boundless pleasure in delayed gratification.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He placed an assertive kiss on Jason’s lips, but drew away far too quickly for the doctor to deepen it.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Time to sleep.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without another word, the Witcher turned to the other side, back facing Jason, his hand pulling the doctor’s arm to encircle him, automatically pressing the smaller body to his own.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Umbelievable!”, came Jason’s frustrated mutter.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But a while later, his body relaxed, his own drumming heart gradually calming down as he felt the much, much slower beats of the mutant heart under his palm. And it was this rhythm that finally lulled him into a deep, restful sleep.</em>
</p><p>“If you are done daydreaming about last night, my darling…”</p><p>“What! I thought you were asleep!”</p><p>“A Witcher can sense the slight change in the pace of a human heart when he drifts from sleep to wakefulness.”</p><p>“Amazing!”, Jason almost threw his hands up in the air, “Is there anything you <em>can’t</em> do, White Wolf?”</p><p>The Witcher chuckled, the sound a deep, toe-curling rumble to Jason’s ears, before turning to face his beloved human. Cornflower-blue irises and golden ones locked on to each other…</p><p>“UNCLE JAS!”</p><p>The shriek caused the two men, lost in each other’s eyes, to nearly tumble onto the floor.</p><p>The door flew open on its hinges, and in came hurtling the two little intruders.</p><p>Jason and Geralt let out identical ‘ooomphs’ as the little monsters landed on their stomachs and started bouncing around on the bed.</p><p>“GET UP! GET UP! It’s barbecue day, sleepyheads! Come on, Uncle Jas, Uncle Garry!”</p><p>Geralt groaned, and tried to pull a pillow over his head, while Jason tried to wrestle himself free from a ferociously lunging Karen.</p><p>“Alright, alright, we surrender! Please, your highnesses, let us go… we promise we are coming downstairs in ten minutes”, Geralt conceded defeat.</p><p>“YOU PROMISE?”, Katie shouted in the Witcher’s ear, and he dove underneath the pillow, wincing in pain.</p><p>“Yes, have mercy, please!”</p><p>******************************</p><p>No sooner had the entire family been seated at the table for breakfast, and Lucy had asked Geralt and Jason, who had been the last two to come downstairs, if they had slept well the night before, that Katie and Karen chirped in unison:</p><p>“We woke the sleepyheads up, Ma!”</p><p>They had come to call Lucy ‘Ma’ despite Gemma and Joshua trying their best to make them call her Nana. </p><p>Lucy smiled indulgently at the kids, “Then you two did such a splendid job, my darlings!”</p><p>Karen, the younger girl, continued excitedly, “We went to wake Uncle Garry first, but he was not in his room, so…”</p><p>Katie interrupted her sister with a victorious smile on her face, “We went to Uncle Jas’ room, and they were both there!”</p><p>Geralt and Jason froze.</p><p>And simultaneously flushed beetroot-red.</p><p>Jason knew every adult at the table was struggling to keep a straight face, while Helena shushed the still babbling children.</p><p>Then, Anton cracked.</p><p>And the entire family erupted in guffaws.</p><p>Jason’s head just slumped onto the table, defeated, and Geralt hid his face behind his palms and groaned.</p><p>“There, there”, Joshua and Helena patted the two utterly chagrined men on the backs, “Don’t you worry. It’s all fine, sweethearts.”</p><p>
  <em>Unbelievable! What a start to this morning!</em>
</p><p>                                   ************************************</p><p>They had already bought the meat and the veggies from the farmer’s market the day before. Preparations, therefore, began in full swing right after breakfast was over.</p><p>Jason pulled Geralt to his side.</p><p>“Let’s work together, so I can also tell you a bit about what’s going to happen tonight.”</p><p>“You know I would love nothing more than to stay close to you.”</p><p>Jason blushed. <em>I can never get enough of all his endearments and open confessions of love.</em></p><p>“Okay, so the idea is to marinate all the meat, fish and veggies in a mixture of spices and condiments for several hours – in our case, until early evening – which will soften them and infuse them with a lot of flavor. We then grill or roast them in an apparatus, which is known as a barbecue grill, out in the garden.”</p><p>“That sounds exciting and delicious, and also somewhat familiar.”</p><p>“Yes, I figured, and that is why I am even more excited for you to experience this. We’ll then carry all the food out on to the beach, where we’ll sit around a fire and enjoy.”</p><p>Geralt placed a warm palm on Jason’s back, “I can’t wait to sit next to you and enjoy this … bar-be-cue, my darling!”</p><p>The rest of the morning went by in a blur, busily chopping up the lamb, chicken, sausages and tuna steaks, shelling the lobsters, slicing the bell peppers, onions, tomatoes, squashes and potatoes, preparing the marinades with lots of olive oil, yogurt, lemon juice and an assortment of finely blended spices and herbs.</p><p>Jason felt as if the air had come alive with some sort of infectious, pervasive joy and love and fondness, taking hold of the heart of each and every member in the house. There was a bounce in everyone’s steps, smiles that simply refused to slough off the faces, an unspoken coordination in how they all worked shoulder to shoulder, an utter ease in the comfortable way they chattered, laughed, joked. </p><p>
  <em>My family has always been so happy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But somehow, Geralt, you have made us even more complete than we used to feel before.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Thank you, my dear heart … love of my life, light of my soul…</em>
</p><p>Sometimes, an arm would snake around Geralt’s waist, a slender body hugging him from behind … </p><p>Sometimes, Jason would feel someone resting their chin on his shoulder, watching him beat the yogurt and add the spices … </p><p>Jason’s fingers would lightly brush upon the back of Geralt’s hands where it rested on the kitchen counter …</p><p>Geralt’s fingers would intertwine with Jason’s as they stood blitzing up the spices, his Witcher nostrils inhaling deeply in the delightful aroma of cumin and coriander and thyme and rosemary as Jason watched his blissful expression with utter adoration …  </p><p>Tender, sensuous caresses tingled their backs, their shoulders and arms … </p><p>Feather-soft pecks were exchanged when the others were not looking (or at least pretended to not look, anyway)…</p><p>                                       **************************</p><p>The entire family sat gathered around a roaring fire, some still munching on a skewered piece of meat or a piece of lobster grilled with garlic, butter and parsley. Everyone was sporting lazy, contented smiles, their eyes reflecting the gold-orange flames, hands clutching half-empty tumblers of cocktails and martinis and champagnes or barbecued marshmallows mounted on sticks. </p><p>Geralt and Jason sat side by side (to no one’s surprise), leaning back with their hands splayed on the sand, Jason’s left pressed underneath Geralt’s right.</p><p>“Jas, it’s time for a song”, piped up Anton.</p><p>“Yes! A song! A song, Uncle Jas!”, chimed in the kids.</p><p>Jason had been quite prepared for this request. It had become almost like a ritual, repeated each year. He hadn’t forgotten to shoulder his rubab when he had made the last trip to the beach before the barbecue party began.</p><p>He now took up the instrument from its case, cradling it with utmost gentleness in his arms, and started tuning it. Rubabs were supposed to accompany songs from Central, West and South Asia, but Jason had found several English songs that paired reasonably well with the rather distinctive notes of this instrument that called the far-off deserts its ancient home. </p><p>He started with some of those, all the while aware of the ruddy-gold of a certain pair of eyes nearly devouring him, following every minute movement of his lips, his fingers plucking the strings of the rubab, the way his eyes closed and his head nodded slightly to the rhythms of the songs as he sang and played on into the night.</p><p>Most were love songs, but Jason had planned to perform one particular song, <em>not</em> an English one, at the very end, dedicated solely to the man sitting next to him …</p><p>
  <em>… the man who had indelibly, inexorably altered the path of his life …</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>… taken possession of his heart, his soul, his entire being …</em>
</p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p><em>… completed him, filled in the ever-present void of his heart …</em> </p><p>
  <em></em>
</p><p>
  <em>… who else could he ever sing such a song for? …</em>
</p><p>He began, explaining the underlying meaning of the lyrics as he went on.</p><p>
  <em>Tu mane ya na maane dildara<br/>
Asaan ne tenu rab manya</em>
</p><p>Whether you believe me or not, my beloved,<br/>
It is you in whom I find my God, my entire existence.</p><p>
  <em>Das hor keda rab da dawara<br/>
Asaan ne tenu rab manya</em>
</p><p>There is no door but the one that leads to you that I shall knock upon,<br/>
For it is you in whom I find my God, my entire existence.</p><p>
  <em> Tujh bin jeena bhi kya jeena<br/>
Teri chaukhat mera madeena<br/>
Kahin aur na sajda gawara<br/>
Asaan ne tenu rab manya</em>
</p><p>What is the meaning of life if you are not in it?<br/>
Your home is my shrine, my temple –<br/>
To no one else will my heart surrender out of love,<br/>
For it is you in whom I find my God, my entire existence.</p><p>
  <em> Haste haste har gham sehna<br/>
Raazi teri raza mei rehna<br/>
Tune mujhe sikhaya hai yaara<br/>
Asaan ne tenu rab manya</em>
</p><p>Smiling, I shall face all trials and tribulations<br/>
As long as I am by your side, as long as you are my companion –<br/>
It is you who have taught me what love is,<br/>
And it is you in whom I find my God, my entire existence.</p><p>Jason just could not help but glance up at Geralt through his long eyelashes, shy and submissive, love soaking his heart, as the ardent words poured forth from the deepest recesses of his entire soul.</p><p>And he knew, from the way Geralt seemed unable to tear his eyes off Jason, that the White Wolf’s heart was attuned to his, that every word the doctor uttered called to his lover, wrapping him up in love, warmth, ecstasy, humility and awe.</p><p>**********************************</p><p>It was well past ten ‘o’clock when the family finally started dispersing off one by one, the fire having burned rather low, and everyone looking either exhausted or somewhat drunk. Well, everyone except Geralt and Jason, because one was a Witcher and very few things could tire someone as powerful and stoic and resilient as him, and the other was loath to leave the two things that were currently his favourite: the moonlit sea beach and the company of his lover.</p><p>“Let’s go sit a bit closer to the waves, shall we, love?”</p><p>So they had walked up to where the waves came up to their feet, drenching their trousers, as they sat all by themselves, leaning against one another, one resting his head on the other’s shoulder.</p><p>Jason realized just how comfortable he and Geralt were in complete, utter silence, just holding each other close, with nothing but the sea to keep them company. The silver gossamer beams of moonlight lit up the ocean in an ethereal way, the far-off midnight-blue swells shimmering sublimely while the crests of the waves closer at hand appeared almost milky with froth. The sky was suffused with the glow, and it was a clear night, allowing for the glittering pinpricks of stars to be appreciated by the two awed and enthralled spectators.</p><p>The moonlight played on Geralt’s hair as well, making the tresses appear even more lustrous. Jason couldn’t help but run his fingers softly through them, marveling at how other-worldly the noble, brave, kind White Wolf looked, sitting there enveloped in moonlight and starlight.</p><p>Geralt turned his soft gaze upon his precious human.</p><p>“Would you like to go swimming, dear heart?”</p><p>“Now? The water would be cold, Geralt”, Jason hesitated, “Besides … I am a bit scared of swimming out in the ocean at night … I mean, who knows what’s out there…”</p><p>Inwardly, he cursed himself for his cowardice. <em>What would Geralt think of me?</em></p><p>But Geralt didn’t fail to surprise him with his response, just like he had many other times before.</p><p>“I will take care of you, Jas.”</p><p>And that was it. Not that the somewhat vague fear that usually gnawed at Jason at the thought of swimming in the dark sea at night just evaporated into thin air at these words, but somewhere inside him, the words lit a light that dispelled the fear into the farthest corner of his mind.</p><p>
  <em>I shall be with my Geralt. I won’t be alone.</em>
</p><p>They slowly undressed each other, taking their sweet time, letting their touches linger and their lips hover over already heated skin, until the two men stood in nothing but their smallclothes.</p><p>“One day, I hope I shall come to know the story behind each and every one of these scars, sweetheart”, Jason mused, his fingers flitting feather-light over the ridged edges of the scars adorning (<em>not marring</em>) Geralt’s torso, “These badges of honour.”</p><p>“One day”, Geralt whispered, taking Jason’s wandering hand and pressing a kiss upon the fingers, and Jason knew it was a promise.</p><p>Clasping that same hand in his, the Witcher turned towards the sea.</p><p>“Shall we?”</p><p>                                     ******************************</p><p>Their bodies drifted in blissful rhythm, the waves softly lapping against them, jostling them, as they held hands and lay on their backs, their eyes captivated by the impossibly, unfathomably vast canopy above them – the moon, bright and almost perfectly round in the midst, its effulgence extending far out on all sides, and the stars like jewels carelessly scattered all over the expanse.</p><p>“We had this amazing author, you know, who once said that those who do not believe in magic, will never find it”, Jason said, his voice almost hushed, “All my life, despite everyone jeering and mocking and deriding me for my crazy imaginations and fantasy-filled head, I held onto that, if nothing else. And now…”</p><p>He turned his head to meet his lover’s eyes.</p><p>“I have found it. I have found you. And I have found this”, he gestured all around him, “This world where time seems to have come to a stop, and the moon and the stars are watching over us. And we are drowning…”, he frowned thoughtfully, “No, <em>rising</em> in love.”</p><p>Geralt said nothing. He didn’t need to. Because Jason knew his heart was full to the brim – knew from his eyes that the Witcher stayed silent only because words could not begin to describe what he was feeling in this moment.</p><p>“I wish I could capture this moment in time forever, you know, Geralt.”</p><p>“It’s already captured. In our memories, Jas. Forever to stay with us until we are no more. Until we become one with the moon and the stars.”</p><p>Geralt raised himself from his recumbent position, his hair fully wet and dripping. Swimming even closer to Jason than he already was, he cupped the doctor’s face, and with a final tender look, lowered himself to meet his lips.</p><p>The kiss was slow, passionate, deliberately drawn out, as if the two lovers had all the time in the world. Geralt kept a hand underneath Jason’s head to make sure his head didn’t dip beneath the water, his other hand softly brushing all over Jason’s throat, chest, abdomen. It didn’t stray any lower. Not yet.</p><p>Slowly, Jason’s body started heating up, responding to the touches that started out feather-light and tantalizing, then gradually grew insistent, bolder, more assertive and persuasive.</p><p>And as Jason’s body tried to have as much of his Witcher’s touches as possible, the White Wolf grinned rather wolfishly against the doctor’s mouth, then pulled himself back.</p><p>“Please, Geralt”, the doctor’s eyes were pleading, his breaths having become shallow.</p><p>“Patience, dear heart. You do realize that your White Wolf will make sure you enjoy this to the fullest?”</p><p>Jason groaned, knowing full well that he had yielded completely to the man in front of him long ago, and there was no turning back.</p><p>Geralt slowly lowered his mouth closer to Jason’s ear, then whispered…</p><p>“And I will also make sure you beg me a few more times. Just a few more times, my precious human.”</p><p>Jason shivered.</p><p>Geralt lowered his mouth to the throat that was being offered up so eagerly to him.</p><p>His free hand started hovering again, this time coming to a stop when he reached a soft nipple. Smirking a bit, he very softly, very gently, very tenderly started playing with it, the pad of his thumb rubbing on it, his fingers lightly plucking at it.</p><p>The doctor’s body arched up of its own accord, aching for more of the White Wolf’s touches and the soft, wet kisses that now trailed over his clavicles and chest and shoulders. </p><p>Geralt realized how much his own body hummed in anticipation as, with a final satisfied look at his pliant lover’s flushed face, he decided to replace his hand with his mouth.</p><p>Jason let out a helpless whimper that echoed through the silent expanse of the sea around them as Geralt’s commanding, adroit lips closed around the already hardened nipple, softly sucking, his tongue occasionally rasping over it.</p><p>“Geralt, oh darling! Oh gosh, Geralt, please!”</p><p>Jason’s fingers were tangled up in his lover’s tresses, trying to steady his quivering body.</p><p>The only thing the begging resulted in was the Witcher switching and directing his ministrations on the other nipple.</p><p>Jason felt tendrils of electricity shoot through him with every suckle, and he knew his system was going haywire.</p><p>“Beloved, I beg you! Please, Geralt, this is torture…”</p><p>“Much better, dearest human. Keep begging…”</p><p>
  <em>Oh this man is going to be the death of me…</em>
</p><p>Once satisfied with how pink and over-sensitized both the nipples looked, Geralt lowered his hand, fingers brushing over the doctor’s abdomen, raising goosebumps, but not stopping there.</p><p>Jason knew he was shuddering as Geralt began to slowly palm him through his smallclothes, drawing out moan after moan from the doctor who was now literally aching with need. </p><p>“Geralt, please! Darling, please, I can’t hold on… please, have some mercy!”</p><p>The imploring was perhaps so desperate that the White Wolf relented. Looking down at his human’s body pressed to his own, buzzing with need that was quickly building up to a crescendo, he stopped and removed his hand.</p><p>Which only served to make the doctor even more agitated.</p><p>“Please… I need you.”</p><p>“And I you, Jas.”</p><p>“Then please, have me. Please, take me to bed.”</p><p>The golden eyes darkened impossibly more. </p><p>“Are you truly ready, Jas? Because we can wait. I shall never stop waiting for you.”</p><p>Jason reached out and pressed his palm to his lover’s cheek.</p><p>“I know, Geralt. But trust me, I am ready. I don’t think I can live a moment longer without you making me yours. Forevermore.”</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Promises</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Okay, this chapter was painful to write, I shall be honest -- from a personal perspective. And yet, it is my MOST FAVOURITE chapter in this entire fanfiction so far. I won't say much in the summary... because I don't want to spoil it. </p><p>PLEASE READ ON AND LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK :-)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sunday would be the last day they spent in North Wales. Jason and Geralt were to head back to London, Anton to Edinburgh, and Helena to Cambridge in the early evening of that day. </p><p>Geralt tried his best to process (he had been successfully able to change his habit of brushing his emotions underneath the rug, to be ignored as long as possible, thanks to the relatively new family he had formed back in his world – Jaskier, Ciri and the others) the heaviness that sat on his chest at the thought of leaving behind this family. Leaving behind Lucy, his Ma. Leaving behind the new sisters and brothers and nieces he had found. Leaving behind the ocean as well.</p><p>Somewhere deep down, he knew he was never coming back here again. Ever. </p><p>And where a few days back it would have made him sigh in relief and joy because it would imply he was going back to his own universe soon, it now made him feel torn. Like a strange conundrum that he sadly knew there was no solution to – he would never leave Ciri alone and that meant that he must bid this beautiful new family of his a farewell that was final and irreversible.</p><p>His mind was still mourning that fact when his feet finally reached the door to Lucy’s room.</p><p>“Ma?”</p><p>“Garry, sweetheart, do come in.”</p><p>It was a very beautifully and yet soberly furnished room, with Lucy sitting on her chaise, next to the open window, cradling a cup of tea. Geralt sat down next to her.</p><p>They sat there in silence, Geralt with his head a little bowed under the weight of the realization that this was the last he would see of his Ma, and Lucy quietly examining her new son.</p><p>“Something bothers you, Garry.”</p><p>Not a question. Just a simple statement.</p><p>“I just … I am going to miss you, Ma.”</p><p>Lucy smiled, and something shone in her old, wise eyes. Setting down her tea cup, she took the Witcher’s face in her frail palms, making him look her in the eye.</p><p>“When you miss someone a lot, it shows how much you have loved them … still love them. Missing is a good thing, my son.”</p><p>“And what if you never again get a chance to see that person, Ma? What if you can never come back to them?”</p><p>“Just because you can’t see them does not mean they are not with you, son”, she placed a hand now on Geralt’s chest, right where his mutant heart beat, “People who truly love each other, never quite get separated, sweetheart. Believe me, I shall always be right here. Right here with you. Always letting you know that I love you, that you are not alone.”</p><p>A snide voice that sounded oddly like Jaskier’s piped up from somewhere deep inside Geralt’s mind.</p><p>
  <em>“See? Told you. We who love you have burrowed into your soul and are never leaving you alone again, grumpy Witcher.”</em>
</p><p>Geralt almost smiled.</p><p>The old lady continued speaking, “And you will always be here, right here in my heart”, she finished, indicating her own heart.</p><p>Geralt just couldn’t help it. He hugged the woman in front of him, careful of his massive strength not hurting her fragile, aging body, laying his head on her shoulder, feeling loved and taken care of when she hugged him tightly back.</p><p>“I still wish I could keep you with me forever, Ma. And the others in the family. Keep you all very close.”</p><p>“Yes, I wish so too. But each of us has a path to follow in this life. And sometimes, those paths may take us far from each other. Physically far, sometimes emotionally far. But when love weaves all our hearts in a single garland, we always remain connected, no matter what.”</p><p>She rubbed her hands comfortingly on her new son’s back. “You will always have me, your Ma, with you. Always. Don’t you let your heart be sad on my account, my darling.”</p><p>When they pulled apart, Geralt tried his best to hide the tear-tracks, but Lucy caught sight of them anyway, and lovingly wiped them away with her hands.</p><p>“I brought you something, Ma. It’s not much … but it is all I have.”</p><p>“Garry, there’s no such thing as ‘much’ or ‘less’ when it comes to gifts given with love, my son.”</p><p>Geralt took out a huge cockle shell from his pocket – truly an exquisite thing – pure, sparkling white throughout its immaculate, grooved surface, with very light lavender flecks adorning the rim. He had found this on the beach during one of his walks with Jason, and picked it up knowing exactly whom he wished to give this to.</p><p>“That is one of the most beautiful seashells I have ever seen, darling!”</p><p>“Keep it close when you miss me, Ma?”</p><p>“Always, sweetheart.”</p><p>She took the shell in delicate hands, regarding it as a prized possession. Then standing up, she took it over to the little glass cabinet, containing her most coveted show pieces, standing right next to her bed, and gently placed it on the top shelf.</p><p>“I have it right by my bedside. Even if I fall ill, I can reach out and take it from there.”</p><p>“Ma! Please don’t say that!”</p><p>“Oh, don’t worry sweetie! I am still so fit and agile”, she laughed, a trilling sound, then picked up something else from the same cabinet.</p><p>“Here”, she gestured, and when Geralt extended his hand, she placed the item on his palm.</p><p>It was a wooden horse. Beautiful and proud, with an elegant neck and flowing mane, soulful eyes that bespoke intelligence and excitement and joy, and a stance that indicated he couldn’t wait to set off at a gallop.</p><p>“I found it in one of the country fairs. Carved out of driftwood found up here in one of the beaches of North Wales, and skillfully too, I’d say. I love its chestnut brown colour.”</p><p>“This … is for me, Ma?”</p><p>“For you, my son.”</p><p>Geralt didn’t know how to talk past the lump in his throat. So he just sat there, staring at the little horse lying on his palm.</p><p>“Remember”, Lucy said again, now smiling tearfully herself as she cradled her son’s face in her hands and placed a kiss on his forehead, “I’m always in your heart. I’m always with you.”</p><p>                                     ******************************</p><p>Geralt had been able to purchase nothing for the rest of the family. He had no coins on him, and he suspected that nothing he simply bought from the markets here would be new and rare for them anyway. They had lived here all their childhood, after all.</p><p>“Hey Garry”, said Helena, sitting in between Katie and Karen, helping them build whatever edifice they were trying to erect in the wet sand of the beach this time, “How are you?”</p><p>“A bit sad”, Geralt replied honestly, “I shall miss you all.”</p><p>“And we you, Garry”, said Gemma from behind him, walking up the path to the beach, Jason in tow.</p><p>Jason blushed a little as his eyes met Geralt’s, and the Witcher knew that a lot of memories from last night were playing through the doctor’s mind. It helped to warm his heavy heart.</p><p>“Uncle Garry”, a shrill chirp right next to his ear brought him back to the present, and Karen climbed into his lap, smearing his garment with wet sand and mud.</p><p>“No Karen, you shouldn’t, darling”, admonished Gemma.</p><p>“No Gem, it’s quite alright”, he lovingly picked up the child in his arms and she pressed her face into his shoulder, giggling hysterically as he lightly tickled her.</p><p>Katie too had dropped her bucketful of sand and come running to Uncle Garry for her share of attention and affection.</p><p>And as Geralt sat there, wrapped in two adoring kids, accompanied by his two new sisters and his lover, he allowed himself a moment to wonder if there really could be a life for him with utter, uninterrupted, unending bliss.</p><p>                                                    ************************</p><p>Jason found Geralt standing alone on the beach, his eyes trained on the far horizon, as far as they could reach, as the setting sun left the sky awash in a fiery blend of colours, from deep rose-red to molten gold to streaks of azure and purple.</p><p>“Hi”, he said quietly, slowly wrapping his lover in a warm embrace from behind.</p><p>“Hello, my love”.</p><p>“You’ll miss the sea, right?”</p><p>“Yes. And a great many other things. But I do see now, you know, why Jaskier was always so eager to travel to the coast”, the Witcher paused, “Why you love the ocean so much.”</p><p>“Did you two visit the coast together, Geralt?”</p><p>The Witcher sighed, and instinctively the doctor tightened his arms around the warm body, knowing that his lover was recalling something painful.</p><p>“We never had the chance. We had planned to go. After the war. After Ciri was safe. But then…”</p><p>Jason rubbed his hands on Geralt’s chest, trying as much as he possibly could to ease the pain in there. The pain of never being able to take a mate to where he truly desired to go. The pain of so many moments promised but not lived.</p><p>Geralt’s warm palms came up to clasp Jason’s where they rested on his broad chest.</p><p>“But now I feel … I have this weird feeling … that Jaskier has seen the coast. The ocean. He has seen it through our eyes, lived it through our minds, our hearts. I feel he is right here – with you and me. Watching over us.”</p><p>“He is, Geralt”, the doctor stated truthfully, recalling the voice in his head, “He will forever be there, with us, for us.”</p><p>                                        ************************</p><p>The drive back to London was as much full of conversations as the one away from London had been devoid of.</p><p>Jason had turned on the music in the car, but after a few moments of hard metal music blaring out of the sound system, Geralt had wrinkled his nose and turned it off (his Witcher observations never missing the buttons and switches Jason clicked on), then rounded on his companion and demanded that he sing.</p><p>“What?! But I am driving!”</p><p>“It’s an empty stretch of the road. And I can sense that you are completely relaxed.”</p><p>“Why don’t <em>you</em> sing?”</p><p>“Because my voice doesn’t sound as nice to me as yours does.”</p><p>In the next few minutes, Jason had quickly discovered that Geralt, when he wanted to, could be as relentlessly querulous as Katie and Karen when they truly wanted a toy or a piece of chocolate with all their hearts.</p><p>“Fine, fine”, Jason shook his head, “You insufferable oaf”, he added under his breath, but the mutter was (of course) not missed by the Witcher.</p><p>Geralt threw him what Jason’s butterfly-filled stomach registered as a purely predatory glare.</p><p>“You will pay for that comment, human. Tonight.”</p><p>
  <em>Shit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And look at me … how I can’t wait to have him make me pay for my little quip!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Oh I’m so damned…</em>
</p><p>And then there was nothing for it but to start singing, while keeping his eyes on the road.</p><p>                                       *************************</p><p>They decided to go out for dinner, to one of Jason’s personal favourites – a small but cozy Lebanese restaurant that stood at the corner of the street, just a few minutes’ walk from his apartment building.  </p><p>“It is traditional in many parts of this world for people of the same household, or friends sharing a meal, to eat out of the same platter”, Jason explained as they settled themselves in the booth at one corner of the little restaurant. </p><p>“And in some cultures, such as in India, a country east of here, lovers or married couples often choose to eat from the same platter too”, he added shyly, his eyes downcast as he felt the Witcher’s golden gaze drench him with love and longing.</p><p>“I like that idea, my human”, and the possessiveness emanating off that deep, bass voice made Jason feel weak in the knees.</p><p>They ordered a single plate of manakish – thin flatbreads topped with thyme, sesame seeds and olive oil – their hands brushing against each other as they dove in, tearing off the breads and relishing the feeling off eating from the same plate. They ordered a side of garlicky hummus (Geralt seemed to love the texture of the creamy yet spicy substance), some tabbouleh with lots of lemon, fresh coriander and parsley, and freshly diced tomatoes, to cleanse their palate, and a savoury, delectable chicken curry made with onions and potatoes. </p><p>At the end of it all, the two men were sated and happy, and slightly drowsy.</p><p>“This was …”, Geralt stared slightly wide-eyed at the now-wiped-clean dishes, as if mentally assessing all the food they had finished together, “Amazing!”</p><p>“Wait, but don’t tell me your Witcher stomach is already full!”</p><p>Geralt looked at Jason with eyes as huge and round as saucers.</p><p>“You want more? What a monstrous appetite you have, beloved!”</p><p>Jason barked a laugh. “No good meal is complete without a little bit of sweet to end it all”, he winked, then called to the waiter.</p><p>“Hi! Could we please have some kanafeh?”</p><p>“Would you like to share from a single plate, sir?”, the waiter asked goodnaturedly, making both men blush a little.</p><p>“Y-yes, that would be great, actually. Thanks!”</p><p>In the end, it turned out that Geralt agreed with Jason. His eyes closed and he hummed in utter contentment as he munched on a spoonful of the dessert that was made of capellini, stuffed with akawi cheese and ghee, and sprinkled with walnuts and pistachios. </p><p>“See? I always make sure you experience the most delicious stuff around here.”</p><p>“Indeed you do”, said Geralt, his eyes trained on his precious human, smirk playing on his lips.</p><p>And Jason belatedly realized the double entendre that had just escaped his lover’s lips.</p><p>
  <em>Oh!</em>
</p><p>“Now”, the Witcher began, the predatory look back in his eyes as his grin widened, watching his dearest Jason turn a becoming shade of pink, “If you are done eating, my sweet, beloved, darling human, let’s head home. Because my appetite is faaaar from sated, yet.”</p><p>****************************</p><p>“Would you like to go to a movie tonight? After I am back from work?”</p><p>Geralt threw his lover a look across the kitchen counter, where they sat eating their breakfast.</p><p>“Hmm, it’s a bit hard to decide for me, given that I have no idea what a ‘moo-vee’ is, my love”, he said testily.</p><p>“Oh ha ha!”, Jason laughed sheepishly, “True. Well, I don’t want to spoil the surprise. I think”, he paused, speculating for a while, “I think I’m going to take you to watch How to Train Your Dragon. I think you will appreciate that one quite a bit.”</p><p>“As long as I get to be with you, I honestly do not care.”</p><p>Jason wiggled his eyebrows at Geralt, “Oh, look at the lovesick Witcher”, and ducked out of the way as Geralt took a playful swipe at his head. </p><p>“By the way”, he added brusquely, now setting down his and Geralt’s bowls in the sink, “I have left pasta in the fridge. It’s all cooked and ready to eat. All you have to do is heat it up in this microwave here.”</p><p>“Like so”, he demonstrated, as the Witcher watched carefully.</p><p>“And you will eat outside?”</p><p>“I am taking my share for lunch at the hospital, yes.”</p><p>“Alright. What time do you come back?”</p><p>“By seven ‘o’clock, for sure. I’ll come pick you up, and then we can head to the cinemas, for the movie. Okay?”</p><p>Jason picked up his bag, slinging it over his shoulder, then walked up to Geralt and hugged him, nuzzling into his chest.</p><p>“Don’t miss me too much, okay?”</p><p>He felt Geralt’s warm kiss on the top of his head, the muscular arms pressing him impossibly closer to the broad chest of the Witcher.</p><p>“I can’t promise you that, beloved.”</p><p>They pulled apart and shared a deep, long kiss.</p><p>“Please be back soon? I shall wait all day long, Jas…”</p><p>
  <em>Oh god! Please let there be no end to him being so open and honest and vulnerable! </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please let there be no end to this love we share!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please let us be together until the end of time…</em>
</p><p>“And I shall wait all day to be back in your arms, Geralt.”</p><p>*****************************</p><p>Geralt fondly perused all the things he had amassed and placed gently in the bag Jason had given him for his newly purchased clothes and other necessaries before they had set out for Colwyn Bay.</p><p>The stack of photos of himself and Jason (some singly, but most in which they stood shoulder to shoulder, arms pulling each other as close as possible), of the Conwy Castle and the seaside at Llandudno, a few photos where the entire family had come together (with Anton pulling Geralt in with his arm when he tried to not ‘intrude’).</p><p>The book on floriography (Geralt lovingly thought of his new little sister and how important a role she had played in cementing his relationship with Jason).</p><p>The blue hair-tie, yet another gift from Helena.</p><p>The wood-carved horse from Lucy.</p><p>The now-somewhat-creased and slightly torn wrapper that had once contained the chocolate bar Jason had given him on their very first day together, in this apartment, and which he had afterward thoroughly cleaned and kept in the bag – another piece of memory.</p><p>A little, brilliantly coloured, hand-sewn cloth doll, one that was supposed to be hung from a peg on the wall, which had been a gift from Katie and Karen from their personal collection (Geralt hugged the tiny, soft thing close to his heart). </p><p>A dainty little show-piece, shaped like a lotus, made of tiny sea-shells of pale pastel shades and rougher but no less elegant bits of colourful coral – a gift from Gemma and Joshua.</p><p>And last but perhaps the most cherished, most prized of all – the still quite radiant blue forget-me-nots, the paler blue lungwort flowers, and the rather minuscule, now slightly off-white blossoms of chickweed pressed securely amidst the pages of Helena’s book.</p><p>Geralt lightly brushed his fingers over the flowers, eyes closing as all the memories of the last few days rushed through his mind, making him nearly ache with the need for his mate, his Jason.</p><p>
  <em>Well, just have to wait until the evening. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I’d like to see how my human escapes me after that…</em>
</p><p>He chuckled, then deciding that he was bored, he went over to Jason’s bookcase and started fingering through the books. Coming across a book that claimed to be a treatise on ‘Norse mythology’, whatever that was (he was intrigued by the ‘mythology’ part of the title, that was all), he pried it out and came back to sit on the sofa, reclining lazily.</p><p>Soon after, though, his head was nodding off, lulled by the soothing quiet of the apartment.</p><p>                                    ***************************</p><p>
  <em>The dense smoke was back. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Only this time, it was not black and impenetrable as it was last time, but white, and Geralt’s mutant eyes could pierce through its veil a little bit.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Geralt!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yen!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We are coming to get you?”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“WHAT!”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We couldn’t send you any warning, like we had told you we would. This magic that opens up a portal to a whole new world – this is still new to me and Triss. And it acts unpredictably, not entirely in our control.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Geralt, we need you to stay put where you are right now. The medallion will guide us. We will be there in a few minutes from now. The medallion will wake you up right after this communication ends.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But Triss…”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“We need to get you out of there now! Nilfgaard was not fully subjugated. Or at least, its allies were able to rally around and attack Kaer Morhen. We need you here!”</em>
</p><p>And that had him reeling into wakefulness, without needing the warning from the medallion, which now was hot enough to leave an angry red scorch-mark even on the Witcher’s magic-imbued skin.</p><p>
  <em>Ciri! My daughter!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I need to get back to my daughter! My cub!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But Jas?</em>
</p><p>Pain twisted in his heart. He had not a moment to lose. He must return as soon as the portal was opened by his friends on the other side.</p><p>And he had absolutely no way of contacting Jason.</p><p>He didn’t have a smartphone on him (that he had learned soon enough could establish connection in some strange way with people far off).</p><p>He had no way of writing a letter. All this time, he had not seen a single parchment or quill, and Jason and Helena both seemed to favour ‘typing’ texts on a device they termed the ‘laptop’, or on their smartphones.</p><p>He had no way of reaching Jason wherever his hospital was.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, he had been so sure, all this time, that he would get at least one warning. He would get to speak with Yen about the matter of Jason, at least once in his subconscious communication with her.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But then, neither Yen (and his family back home) nor he could have foreseen an attack on Kaer Morhen despite the enemies having been apparently vanquished or eliminated.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps that was another reason why she or Triss had failed to communicate with him in the past few days.</em>
</p><p>A howl of pain and frustration and pure, unadulterated fear of losing his mate (again) tore itself from his chest.</p><p>The medallion, on the other hand, was now starting to vibrate.</p><p>The time to leave was drawing closer. Inexorably.</p><p>
  <strong>The time to leave without Jason. Without his Jas next to him.</strong>
</p><p>The White Wolf cast about in a frenzied manner, his whole frame now shaking with surge after surge of emotions he didn’t think his heart could handle.</p><p>And just like that, his eyes landed on the book whose corner peeked out from within his bag – the bag his beloved Jason had gifted him – lying on the sofa.</p><p>
  <em>A Trail to Hike Through Floriography.</em>
</p><p>Geralt dove for the book, then frantically flipped through the pages with shaky fingers. </p><p>
  <em>Where is it? Where the heck is it?</em>
</p><p>**************************</p><p>“Geralt! Sweetheart!”, Jason’s voice rang out musically as he called to his beloved, his feet almost skipping with joy as he turned the key and opened the door to his apartment.</p><p>Oh, how he had looked forward to this all day long!</p><p>Coming home to the waiting arms of his Geralt. <em>His … oh screw it, he was going to go ahead and think it anyway … his mate, his partner for life, his … his husband…</em></p><p>The entire day, fellow doctors and nurses had eyed him with intrigue and amused smiles on their faces, for the bounce in the steps of the young doctor and the smile that threatened to break forth on his face, the smile bubbling up as he talked of everyday things to them – these were impossible to miss. </p><p>On his way back, in the tube, he had flipped out his smartphone and happily purchased a couple of movie tickets online, and nearly whistled in joy and eager anticipation as he half walked, half jogged the entire way back to his apartment from the tube station. </p><p>“Geralt?”, Jason called again, after shutting the door behind him, placing the keys on the kitchen counter.</p><p>The apartment returned no answer.</p><p>“Are you asleep, darling?”, he asked, though he knew full-well that a Witcher would hear even the turning of the key in the lock from the deepest of slumbers. </p><p>He walked forward, a bit worried now, though the smile hadn’t fully disappeared from his face.</p><p>The sofa that had been claimed by Geralt was empty, but with the clear signs of someone having lain on it some hours ago.</p><p>Jason quickly walked into his bedroom.</p><p>Nothing. Empty bed, shutters closed, curtains drawn.</p><p>He sprinted to the bathroom. </p><p>Door open. Empty bathtub.</p><p>“Geralt? Sweetheart, are you hiding from me?”, his voice was now sounding much shriller, something akin to panic mingling with it.</p><p>He ran to the balcony. </p><p>Door locked from the inside. No one out there.</p><p>“Geralt, baby, where are you? Please come out. Please, this is scaring me. Darling, please!”</p><p>His voice broke. His face was crumpled in pain. Tears were starting to form. He clutched at his heart that had started to race at a dizzying pace.</p><p>“Honey, I can’t do this. Please, honey, please! I am so scared, Geralt, please come out and hold me. Please, I am begging you, baby…”</p><p>Jason was frenetic now, his whole body shaking uncontrollably as he dashed from one corner of the cold, empty, deserted apartment to another.</p><p>“Please, I need you … please don’t do this to me, baby. I am soooo scared, Geralt, I am in pain… your Jas is in pain… baby pleeeeease…”</p><p>A shriek of excruciating agony tore through his chest.</p><p>To fall on no one’s ears.</p><p>And then … he saw it.</p><p>Or rather, he didn’t. His eyes fell on the discarded, damaged armour that lay on the small side-table next to Geralt’s sofa-bed. </p><p>There used to be a couple of sheathed swords and a short knife right next to it. And Geralt had, last night, placed the bag Jason had given him on that table as well.</p><p>They were gone. No sword, no knife, no bag.</p><p>Jason’s knees knocked against each other as he fell to the floor like a marionette whose strings had been cut off.</p><p>And his body careened forward as someone seemed to have violently twisted his heart, constricted the muscles of his throat, squeezed all the air out of his lungs.</p><p>Kneeling on the floor, doubled over, shrunken and forlorn, the desolate, devastated human hugged himself.</p><p>“You promised. You promised to love me. Until the end of our days.”</p><p>The broken voice whispered words that no one heard.</p><p>“You promised to let me be by your side. You promised you won’t leave without me.”</p><p>The world was becoming hazy and dim all around him. His eyes were seeing nothing. </p><p>
  <em>Too much pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone kill me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone end this. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone stab me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone stab my heart. Please.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I can’t live. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I mustn’t live any longer.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>If I do, if anything prolongs this pain… it will drive me crazy.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Please, end this pain.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Slay me with your sword, Witcher. Kill me. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>If you are going to leave me like this … just stab your Jas through the heart.</em>
</p><p>************************</p><p>He hadn’t realized he had blacked out.</p><p>When Jason came around, he was lying on the carpet of the living room, curled up in a fetal position.</p><p>His arms and legs lay twitching on the floor, all strength drained from them.</p><p>
  <em>Oh, the weight inside me.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I don’t think I can move again, under this weight.</em>
</p><p>He stayed like that for a long time. Mind numbed. Thoughts blurred. Eyes seeing nothing.</p><p>
  <em>Empty. Everything is empty.</em>
</p><p>The breaths came slow now. The heart … oh the heart … he wondered – the cardiologist wondered – how it was still beating, given the surges of pain that had racked through it.</p><p>Minutes dragged on. Perhaps hours.</p><p>The doctor lay there, unmoving, unaware of the passage of time. </p><p>He distantly heard his phone ringing. But he had no strength to reach out to grab it from where it lay on the floor – where it had fallen from his hands when he had first realized …</p><p>Slowly, very slowly, almost agonizingly slowly, Jason pushed himself up to a sitting position.</p><p>He knew there was nothing for it. Nothing else to be done.</p><p>Just move forward. Through life.</p><p>Through life that meant nothing anymore. Life that would just become a mundane regimen – an endless, tiresome, tedious repetition of days and nights and days again that would make no sense and somehow still continue until the day he died.</p><p>
  <em>Tujh bin jeena bhi kya jeena…<br/>
Asaan ne tenu rab manya…</em>
</p><p>Unbidden, angry tears started in his eyes.</p><p>
  <em>Huh! In him I found my God, my entire existence…<br/>
In him, who abandoned me in a heartbeat…<br/>
Who promised to be mine, who made me his, then left without a goodbye…<br/>
<strong>In that cruel, cruel, heartless, ruthless, stone-hearted, inhuman monster, I found my God, my love, my entire existence…</strong></em>
</p><p>Jason wasn’t sure if he would fall if he tried to stand, but he had to try. He couldn’t sit there forever. His traitorous body would eventually give in to the need to eat, to sleep, to move. </p><p>Suddenly, a part of his mind screamed at him.</p><p>
  <em>Why can’t you end this? Why are you so cowardly?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>It’s easy enough. Slitting a wrist. Taking one too many sleeping pills …</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You know where your jugular vein is, don’t you? And you have one of those perfectly sharpened surgical knives in your briefcase … </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What about the balcony? It’s high up enough, isn’t it?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You, a frigging doctor – you can do it. You can end the agony …</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And yet, here you are…letting yourself suffer this pain … </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Here you are, living on when there is no meaning anymore to your existence…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Shame on you…</em>
</p><p>A small voice of reason inside him urged him not to listen, that it was dangerous to listen to this pernicious voice, that life was worth living no matter what. Urged him to reach out – to someone, anyone. That he must not be alone right now. That he must not give in to the desire to end it all. The voice urged him to think of the people who loved him – his Ma, his sisters, his brother, his brother-in-law, his darling nieces, his friends at work…</p><p>
  <em>Oh stop thinking! Just do it!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You never meant anything to anyone, you stupid, unwanted orphan!</em>
</p><p>
  <em>You were just a burden anyway for Lucy and Arthur…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Remember what Aahad told you? You whiny, worthless, idiotic imbecile…</em>
</p><p>The voice of reason was getting drowned out. It was becoming fainter and fainter.</p><p>Another loud voice now joined the cacophony in his mind.</p><p>
  <em>Think about it this way, human…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>May be he discovers, some day, some way, that you are no more…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>May be, just may be, the monster will mourn you…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>May be there will be a tiny part of him that will grieve for you…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But if you live, the cruel Witcher will only laugh in your face, and he will say the same things that Aahad told you…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>That you are a lily-livered, simpering coward, an insignificant, inconsequential arsehole…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone who could not even prove how much the Witcher really mattered to him by ending his own life…</em>
</p><p>The two louder voices urged him on, his feet carrying him towards the bedroom, reaching the briefcase with emergency medical equipments that lay on one side, his shaky hands opening it, hesitantly touching the cold, gleaming metal of the surgical knife…</p><p>
  <em>Jason! No! </em>
</p><p>Jason almost flinched. </p><p>Jaskier?</p><p>
  <em>You mustn’t, Jason! Please don’t do this! Please!</em>
</p><p>Why?</p><p>
  <em>You have to live, Jas.</em>
</p><p>But this pain…</p><p>
  <em>It will become bearable…</em>
</p><p>Do I even want it to become bearable? Because that would mean my love for … for him is diminishing…that I am forgetting him…</p><p>
  <em>Your love for him will never lessen, Jas…</em>
</p><p>Yeah, you’re right… that monster clawed out my heart and now…</p><p>Silence. </p><p>Then Jaskier spoke again, and even Jason’s benumbed mind felt the heat in his voice.</p><p>
  <em>Geralt is not a monster, Jason. If you believe nothing else, believe that.</em>
</p><p>Fine then. It must be me. I am the monster … that’s why the Witcher left me. So that I die of pain…</p><p>
  <em>No, Jason, no! I know it hurts, sweetie, but you are NOT a monster either.</em>
</p><p>Tell me, why should I carry this pain inside me? Why should I suffer so? Why should I live?</p><p>
  <em>Because you <strong>matter</strong>, Jas! You matter to way too many people …</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And you matter to Geralt…</em>
</p><p>Jason scoffed.</p><p>The phone rang. Again.</p><p>
  <em>Please Jas. You have to live. Please, fight this pain. I am with you. Every step of the way. Don’t give in.</em>
</p><p>The phone just wouldn’t relent.</p><p>The doctor couldn’t muster the strength to get to his feet. Instead, he crawled, ponderously making his way to the phone on the floor of the living room.</p><p>“Jas, hello?”</p><p>“He-hello, Helena.”</p><p>“Jas, are you alright?”</p><p>“Y-yeah”, he feebly hiccupped.</p><p>“You don’t sound okay. What’s wrong, Jas?”</p><p>“N-nothing.”</p><p>“You’re worrying me, brother. Where’s Garry? I should tell him you sound distraught. Can I speak to him?”</p><p>And Jason … poor, helpless, traumatized, utterly shattered Jason … burst into tears, his voice rising and falling in a lamenting, heart-wrenching wail.</p><p>“Hang in there, brother. I am coming. I am coming in the next train to London.”</p><p>He whimpered in pain, and the sound was so staggeringly painful and harrowing that Helena gasped on the other side of the phone.</p><p>“Jas, JAS! Can you hear me? Talk to me, Jas, please!”</p><p>He couldn’t … he could only keel over in pain, clawing miserably at his wretched heart…</p><p>“Jas, sweetheart, I am coming. I am just getting out of my apartment now. I’ll be there soon. Please, please hang in there. I love you Jas. Do you hear me? I love you.”</p><p>The line went dead.</p><p>Jason lay sobbing on the floor, until all the tears that his tear-glands could have produced had leaked out of his eyes, leaving him weak and utterly bereft.</p><p>And as he lay there, his bloodshot, aching eyes fell on something on the coffee table.</p><p>
  <em>A Trail to Hike Through Floriography.</em>
</p><p>He didn’t know how he found this last ounce of strength. Didn’t know what spurred him on. Raising himself on his elbows, he painstakingly moved to the table and picked up the book.</p><p>Two pages had been folded off at the upper corners. </p><p>Two pages with colourful pictures of flowers, their names, the meanings they bore in the language, and the historical backgrounds that led to those meanings.</p><p>
  <em>Filbert or hazel flowers – signifying reconciliation.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lily of the Valley – signifying return to happiness.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. In the end, no matter what...</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Yoooo hoooo!!! And the 10th chapter is done. For those of you who were concerned for Jason after reading the last chapter:<br/>1) THANK YOU for the comments and for feeling the emotions that the characters in my fanfiction experienced,<br/>2) THANK YOU for the encouragement I received from all of you,<br/>3) and I hope that you will enjoy this chapter as well, and PLEASE LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK IN YOUR REVIEWS :-D</p><p>And this would be the last chapter of this fanfiction (though I have yet to figure out how on earth I am supposed to mark a work as complete on Ao3), unless...</p><p>UNLESS YOU GUYS WANT A FOLLOW UP CHAPTER, HMMM? ;-)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I think you are coping with this marvelously, Jason. You are being very brave.”</p><p>“Thank you, Dr. Marmaras. I … don’t know how to repay you for your kindness.”</p><p>“You are not just an esteemed colleague of mine, Jason, you are also a very good friend. I am happy to help.”</p><p>Jason stood up from where he had been sitting across from his psychoanalyst friend, and headed for the door, feeling suddenly weary.</p><p>“And Jason”, she called, “Have a good time at Lucy’s.”</p><p>                                     *******************************</p><p>The train to Colwyn Bay had been a bit delayed. </p><p>Jason had decided, prior to boarding, that he would force his exhausted, sluggish, continually distracted, pain-wracked brain to concentrate on a research paper, but he ended up alternating between listlessly staring out through the window, at the landscape blurred by sheets of pelting rain and occasionally hail, and dozing fitfully.</p><p>Helena and Gemma were waiting at the station.</p><p>Colwyn Bay was the town in which Jason had grown up, spent more than a decade, had returned to once every couple of months at the very least. Never had he needed anyone to come receive him at the station.</p><p>But this Jason was a different Jason.</p><p>A fragile Jason. Almost brittle. Feeble. Prone to nervous breakdowns. Absentminded, sometimes fractious. His mind in tattered shreds. </p><p>No longer a happy Jason. No longer a genial, easily smiling, convivial Jason. No longer a talkative, chirping, affable, effusive, darling doctor.</p><p>This Jason had his anxious family, some anxious colleagues and friends watching out for him. Continually texting him, calling him, making sure he was okay. Worrying for his well-being.</p><p>The two sisters pulled Jason into a hug.</p><p>“You have lost weight, Jas”, Gemma observed, eyeing him critically, “Are you not eating properly, love?”</p><p>“Gem, let’s go home?”</p><p>Gemma and Helena winced at the tone of their brother’s voice.</p><p>
  <em>So resigned. So despondent. So devoid of hope.</em>
</p><p>“Yes, brother. Ma awaits.”</p><p>                                                ************************</p><p>The next morning dawned fair and clear, with the brooding, looming, solemn grey carpet of clouds rolled back, allowing pale sunlight to filter through.</p><p>Jason sat with his hands digging deep underneath the moist, cool sands of the beach, his body leaning against Lucy’s shawl-covered legs, who reclined on the deckchair they had carried down to the beach. Helena paced back and forth in front of them, quite oblivious to the waves reaching up to her and drenching her ankles and the hem of her trousers.</p><p>“Jas?”, Lucy lovingly ran her fingers through her son’s unkempt hair, “What is my sunshine thinking?”</p><p>Jason smiled ruefully. </p><p>
  <em>Trust Lucy to never give up on her precious baby.</em>
</p><p>“Just that love is the worst kind of affliction in this world, Ma. The absolute <em>worst</em>. And I wish I had never fallen prey to it.”</p><p>“You don’t mean that, Jas. It’s the single most beautiful thing in this universe, sweetie.”</p><p>Jason turned to her.</p><p>“Tell me, Ma, do you enjoy seeing your baby like this?”</p><p>Lucy’s eyes shone with tears, and Jason immediately regretted his choice of words.</p><p>“No, I do not. But I also know that this is the sign of a most loving, most caring heart. If the world had more people like you, Jas…”</p><p>“Then it would just have more worthless idiots loitering around, Ma.”</p><p>“That’s enough, Jas”, Helena yelled.</p><p>With an effort, she calmed herself, closing her eyes and praying for patience. His words had truly grated on her nerves.</p><p>
  <em>How can he speak like that? Can’t he see how much he means to us?</em>
</p><p>“I was so sure. He seemed … so genuine, Jas”, she said out loud, after a moment.</p><p>Jason scoffed.</p><p>“Yeah, he seemed genuine to me too, Helena.”</p><p>“What about the folded pages in that floriography book he left behind?”</p><p>They had had this discussion so many times, trying to seek some semblance of comfort, some modicum of hope, and Jason was tired of it all.</p><p>“Huh! It means nothing. NOTHING. Probably thought it was useless to carry the book back to whichever fucking world he came from”, the doctor spat.</p><p>Helena and Lucy both flinched.</p><p>
  <em>So unlike Jason. Jason, who never ever cursed with so much acrimony, so much bitterness…</em>
</p><p>“Besides”, the doctor continued, his glum voice now taking on a very unusual hard edge, “You know what? GOOD RIDDANCE!”</p><p>“Jas…”, Lucy sounded almost pained.</p><p>“No Ma, <em>you</em> listen. It’s better that the monster”, the doctor’s heart clenched, and somewhere inside him, a part of him warned him that he was crossing a line somewhere, but he overrode it easily enough, “That … that <em>fucking</em> Witcher … that FREAK left me alone”, he was crying now, unbeknownst to himself, “I would NEVER EVER have gone with him. NEVER.”</p><p>“Jason, darling, look at me.”</p><p>And the doctor, who was now shaking with sobs, his tears streaming down his shirt and onto the sand, his voice broken, was turned to face his mother by her hand cupping his wet cheek.</p><p>“He loved you, Jason. He <strong>loves</strong> you, son. And you love him still. I know it … feel it in my bones. Don’t speak of your beloved like that, darling. I know you are angry, and you are hurting. But this is no way to speak of Geralt.”</p><p>“You can never see anything wrong in people, Ma. And now you are siding with the … the <em>fucking bastard<em> who abandoned your own son.”</em></em></p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“That’s not it, sweetheart. I never sided with Aahad, did I?”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>Jason knew it was true.</em>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <em>“Because I never felt Aahad deserved your respect, after he did what he did. But Geralt … trust me, Jas, I have learned a thing or two about seeing through peoples’ exteriors – their masks – in these eighty years of living on this planet. And Geralt – no, Jason, his heart was true. His heart <strong>is</strong> true.”</em>
  </em>
</p><p>“Then why did he leave, Ma?”</p><p>His eyes were pleading now, and Lucy wanted to take away all the pain those beautiful cornflower-blue orbs now brimmed with.</p><p>“Something must have happened, Jas. Something that forced him to leave. In a hurry. And he tried to let you know … but he had no way of writing a message down. That’s why he folded up those two pages of the book”, Helena spoke, her tone speculating, thoughtful.</p><p>“You two just want me to grab at every frigging straw to stop me from drowning.”</p><p>“Listen, Jas”, Lucy’s voice became serious, “I think Helena is right. And I think he will come back. Somehow. Some day. May be not today, but soon.”</p><p>“Ma, please”, the doctor hid his face in Lucy’s lap, and the old woman wrapped her arms around her desperately sobbing, whimpering, trembling child, “Please don’t give me hope. I can’t, Ma … he broke me beyond healing … he left me in the dust, Ma…”</p><p>Helena stopped pacing and came to sit down next to her helpless brother, and started rubbing circles on his back.</p><p>“He promised me he’ll love me always, Ma. He promised me he will never leave me behind. He promised we’ll live together, forever. He promised … he promised…”, he hiccupped, chest rising and falling rapidly and painfully.</p><p>“My heart tells me, darling, that he will keep them, Jas”, Lucy said, and the note of confidence, of conviction in her voice, Jason knew, was not affected, “And when … <em> not if</em> … when he comes back, go with him, Jas.”</p><p>And that had even Jason sitting up straight, consumed as he was with grief and longing and the gut-wrenching feeling of betrayal.</p><p>“Ma…”</p><p>“Listen, Jas. You are my baby. I have seen you all these years, and I have seen how, despite being one of the kindest, friendliest, most lovable people ever, there was always a sort of emptiness in you. All through your easy smiles and open laughter, your reaching out to people, comforting them, cheering them up, you have sought something. It shows in your music, you know”, Lucy smiled indulgently, “You seemed always to be looking for something, but never quite finding exactly what you wanted, what you needed. Until, that is, you met Geralt.”</p><p>Jason pressed a hand upon his aching, throbbing heart.</p><p>“When I saw you with Geralt, you no longer had that occasionally distant, somewhat mournful look in your eyes anymore, sweetheart. You no longer looked like you felt incomplete, felt like you had lost a piece of yourself and could not find it anymore. You were … present in the here and now, when he was around. Your heart didn’t wander.”</p><p>She sighed. </p><p>“Connections of the heart like that, Jas … they are rarely one-sided, love. And you did not notice the way … the way Geralt’s eyes followed you around, like he feared you would disappear – slip away through his fingers – if he but blinked. I saw him look at you like you were … his lifeline.”</p><p>Jason was about to break into a fresh torrent of sobs, but Lucy shushed him.</p><p>“I don’t say these to exacerbate your pain, my darling. You know your Ma would never do that to you. I say these to simply tell you … I believe in my other son too, Jason. I don’t think he has left this baby of mine forever”, she tilted his chin to make him look up into her eyes.</p><p>
  <em>“I think that my other son – my Geralt – deserves some benefit of the doubt, Jason darling. I refuse to believe he will not come back to my Jas.”</em>
</p><p>*************************</p><p>Seven months.</p><p>That’s how long it had taken to defeat the enemies who dared to try to lay siege to the fortress of Kaer Morhen, to vanquish them, to make sure they didn’t rise again, to ensure that Ciri, the Lion Cub of Cintra, was safe from their malicious clutches.</p><p>Slowly but surely, the forces of Redania, Aedirn and Temeria had rallied around Kaedwen and Kaer Morhen’s Witchers and sorceresses, and this aid had proved crucial in finally besting the unrelenting enemies.</p><p>Even with their aid, it had taken way too long … Cahir had had way too many tricks up his sleeve to make sure his mission continued even after his death, involving dark magic and sorcerers whom he brought from the remotest parts of the continent – nameless beings of unchecked, unbridled, overwhelming primal powers, souls beyond redemption, wielding weapons that had left the combined expertise Yennefer, Triss, Sabrina and Tissaia herself thoroughly lacking in the beginning.</p><p>And one of the severest prices that the forces sworn to save Cintra’s future queen had paid was the sustaining of some rather grievous injuries by Geralt and Vesemir.</p><p>Injuries that required serious intervention by Yennefer, Triss and Tissaia, working painstakingly with magic as well as traditional treatments from natural resources to heal the tissue that was fast necrotizing, to make sure no lasting damage was done.</p><p>Geralt had needed to be force-fed valerian, so that his body could have the undisturbed, direly needed rest that he himself had been rather loath to provide it.</p><p>It was heartbreaking for his closest friends who had become his family – for Ciri, who most of the time simply refused to leave his bedside, for his best friend Yen, for Triss and Eskel and Lambert – to see their beloved White Wolf helplessly confined to his bed, fever burning through his system even as the medicines and magic worked through his blood, his nerves, fighting off the infections, the corruption, preventing the toxins and venoms from taking hold of him.</p><p>When he came awake, he fought with them – fought to get out of bed, brashly claiming he was doing “just fine, for Melitele’s sake”, fought to be back in the training yard for his daily practices and fitness regimes, fought to go on patrols around the castle, fought to keep his little family safe.</p><p>
  <em>And fought to stand on his own two feet, to walk, to run – just so he could make his journey back through a certain portal to a certain other world, to a certain human’s arms. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To bring back said human with him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>To never let him out of his sight again.</em>
</p><p>******************<br/>
Ciri had resolved to clean up Geralt’s room before his birthday.</p><p>Yes, well, it was not very certain whether it was <em>truly</em> his birthday or not – because the memories that remained of the life before his training and trials to become a Witcher began were quite a bit blurred and specific information was of doubtful accuracy. But Ciri had absolutely demanded that each of the Witchers and sorceresses of Kaer Morhen rake their brains to come up with a date they were reasonably convinced was their birthday, and that they must celebrate on that day.</p><p>And of course, when the Cub decreed something, her doting father, aunts and uncles obliged.</p><p>She currently huffed around the entire room, making sure to stay close to her injured and sleeping father’s bedside should he need any help, face puckered in a frown as she tried to figure out how to properly organize the books, the weapons, the odds and ends Geralt had come to collect over the years from his expeditions, and how best to decorate the room with flowers, hand-crafted paper streamers and colourful lanterns.</p><p>The top of the wood cabinet by the side of the door was especially cluttered, and she finally turned her attention on it.</p><p>Old swords, spell books, ancient tomes on dark magic, treatises on mutant anatomy and chemistry – the place was heaped with these, and she started picking them up one by one and moving them to whichever corner of the room she had designated for items of a similar nature.</p><p>And then, out fell onto her lap a weird, grey-coloured, square piece of – bag? – made of some kind of stiff fabric.</p><p>She would not have guessed it was a bag unless her fingers, squeezing it, had felt all kinds of shapes and lumps, of varying hardness, inside.</p><p>
  <em>But if it’s a bag, how the heck do you open it?</em>
</p><p>Well, it was time to seek out Aunt Yen and Aunt Triss.</p><p>*******************************</p><p>It took Yen and Triss frustratingly long to figure out the simple technique of opening the zipper of the bag.</p><p>It had come from another universe, after all, the two immensely powerful and talented sorceresses thought sourly.</p><p>They both recalled vaguely seeing this thing in Geralt’s hand as he had rushed through the portal, back to his own universe. </p><p>But these last seven months had been spent in such continuous, persistent tension and stress, fear for the safety of Ciri followed by fear for Geralt’s and Vesemir’s health, although they were now well on the road to recovery, that they had had no time to ponder about the experiences their White Wolf had had in the other universe.</p><p>All that the medallion had told them was that Geralt had been safe, even happy, and he had found a friend in that other world.</p><p>And now, as Yen finally unzipped the bag and upended it on her bed…</p><p>Out came tumbling what could only be described as glossy, weird pictures …</p><p>Of Geralt, and…</p><p>Jaskier!</p><p>                                       ****************************</p><p>“How do you feel?”</p><p>Geralt had to put in some effort to fully crack open his eyelids, the valerian still partially fogging his brain.</p><p>The violet orbs that stared into his own amber ones were filled with concern and love.</p><p>“I’ve been telling you for the last month that I am perfectly fine”, he slurred.</p><p>“Sure”, Yen scoffed, but the effect was marred by the indulgent smile in her voice.</p><p>“To what do I owe the pleasure, Yen?”</p><p>“I need to ask you a few things. I normally wouldn’t wake you up like this, but as far as I can tell, you are doing much better now, and this matter … it’s urgent.”</p><p>Geralt’s eyes immediately lost their dreamy lack of focus and became alert.</p><p>“No, no, it’s not what you think. The enemy is not back”, Yen reassured him, placing her palm on his bandaged chest.</p><p>“Then?”</p><p>“It’s about this.”</p><p>
  <em>And she held up a picture – no, a photograph – of two men standing arm in arm in front of an ocean.

One with golden eyes and flowing white hair.

Another with cornflower-blue eyes and chestnut brown hair.</em>
</p><p>********************</p><p>“We must bring Jason home”, Ciri said with unmistakable authority in her voice.</p><p>She would make a fine queen one day, Triss thought with warmth and admiration in her heart, looking at the child.</p><p>“Yes, obviously. Provided he wishes to come here, leaving behind his world.”</p><p>“But he <em>obviously</em> loves Da!”</p><p>“Yes, but whether he loves your Da enough to …”</p><p>“Yes, he does. I am sure of it”, Ciri declared with finality, crossing her arms as if to make it clear that this would brook no argument.</p><p>Yen sighed. She did, after all, see her own younger self in Ciri, and could not begrudge the girl her stubbornness.</p><p>“Very well. But Geralt cannot go. He is recovering fast, but he still cannot be exposed to the risk of getting hurt while traversing through a portal.”</p><p>Ciri threw her a look. “Well, obviously! Da’s not going anywhere. But I can go.”</p><p>The sorceresses resisted rolling their eyes with difficulty.</p><p>
  <em>Leave it to the Cub to want to shoulder all responsibilities. Even the ones way beyond her capabilities.</em>
</p><p>“How about this?”, Yen tried to strike a conciliatory tone, “I’ll go. It will be much easier for me to control the portal’s location, timing and stability if I travel myself through it. And that way, I can also try to read Jason’s mind to see if he truly wishes to be with your Da?”</p><p>“But I want to come! Just in case Jason decides to do something stupid, I can convince him to come live with Da!”</p><p>Triss pulled Ciri into her lap – she was usually able to show far more motherliness towards the Cub than Yen managed. But Ciri pouted nonetheless.</p><p>“How about my Cub and I watch over Da while Yen fetches Jason? Someone needs to watch over Da so he doesn’t get himself into trouble again, yes?”</p><p>The girl stared out the lofty window of Kaer Morhen for a moment. Then, with a swish of her long white hair, she huffed a reluctant “Fiiine.”</p><p>Yen touched the Cub’s chin.</p><p>“I’ll bring him home soon. Before Da’s birthday. They will spend the birthday together. Promise.”</p><p>***********************</p><p>“You can truly, accurately locate his home? His apartment?”, asked Geralt, a concerned frown on his face.</p><p>“Yes, if that is the location from which you were teleported back into this world”, Yen explained, “I mean, I can open up the portal anywhere in that world, but I just won’t know where that is, and how to trace Jason from there. So, yes, it would be better to just open the portal leading to the precise location from which you left last time – this apartment of his.”</p><p>“I…”, the White Wolf hesitated, and his best friend raised a sardonic eyebrow.</p><p>“You are worried he might decline the offer. Of coming here.”</p><p>He pinched the bridge of his nose, sitting up on his bed after a long time, leaning against the wooden headboard. </p><p>“I don’t even know if he … if he cares for me anymore, Yen. A lot may have transpired in the last seven months. May be he has … may be he has given his heart to someone else. Or may be he just despises me now…”</p><p>“Geralt, please, stop this”, commanded a usually much more mild-mannered Triss, as she finished making a paste of the medicinal leaves and roots in a mortar and walked to his bedside, offering him the potion to drink.</p><p>“This whole thing, Geralt – this reeks of Destiny”, said Yen, “The chance of you meeting another version of Jaskier, in another universe, is next to none. So please, relax. He may be furious with you, he may want to wring your neck with his bare hands, but you can rest assured he has not stopped loving you. And no one is dragging Jason here against his own free will. I’ll speak with him – try to gauge his feelings for you. Feelings about coming and living here.”</p><p>“Very well, Yen. I cannot honestly deny that my … that my heart aches for him.”</p><p>“Oh, Geralt”, Triss threw her arms around her friend and hugged him, “He will come. You’ll see. He can’t stay away from you either, sweetheart.”</p><p>“And in the meantime, Triss and the Cub will make sure you don’t step out of line”, said Yen, adding in her best glare for good measure.</p><p>Geralt threw his two friends a fond smile, “I promise to be good.”</p><p>“So, you are quite sure that your Jason hasn’t moved to a new location, right?”, Yen attempted to confirm one final time.</p><p>Geralt spoke a bit hesitantly, “I don’t think so. At least, he had given no such indication in his conversations with me”, but worry still twisted his heart.</p><p>“And Yen?”</p><p>“Yes, Geralt?”</p><p>“I need you to carry something to him from me.”</p><p>                                                        *********************</p><p>“Are you absolutely sure?”</p><p>“Yes, Ciri, I am sure”, said Yen, praying for patience.</p><p>“Alright, because I just think I have better persuasive abilities…”</p><p>“Ciri, that will be enough”, Geralt’s tired voice rang out.</p><p>Yen knew he regretted it almost immediately … the Cub was the apple of his eyes, and he hated himself when he even slightly raised his voice at her.</p><p>Ciri stood glowering at the floor until Geralt pulled his daughter into a hug. </p><p>“Baby, if something happened to you while traveling through the portal, do you think your Da can ever forgive himself?”</p><p>Yen’s heart always felt so full when Geralt was being this way. A smile tugged at her lips as she quietly left the room, giving father and daughter some privacy as Ciri cuddled up to the Witcher, burrowing her face into his chest.</p><p>But no sooner had she gone a few paces away from the door to Geralt’s room than she was caught up with by Ciri, running and calling her name.</p><p>“Wait up, Aunt Yen”, she said, panting slightly, “I have something to give to Jason too.”</p><p>From the folds of her dress, she retrieved a slightly battered-looking, dog-eared notebook.</p><p>“Ciri!”, Yen stared at the familiar looking notebook, “Is that what I think it is?”</p><p>“Shhh, don’t speak so loud, or Da will hear”, Ciri urged, “Just tell him that it is not just Da who misses him, it’s not just Da who needs him here.”</p><p>Yen crouched down to the floor, holding Ciri by the arms as she looked up at the child’s bright eyes, wondering when her little Cub had grown up quite so much.</p><p>“Tell him that Ciri waits for her Pa.”</p><p>                                       *************************</p><p>“So, how much <em>did</em> you tell your psychoanalyst? Or anyone else at work or among your friends?”, Helena inquired curiously, watching her brother carefully as he leaned back on his seat, opposite her, and peered out the train's raindrop-splattered window.</p><p>“Just that I had met someone, fallen in love, and then he disappeared. Can’t dish out the actual details, obviously. Those I only confided to the family.”</p><p>“Hmm, makes sense. And I like the idea that she pushed you to trade living in London for living somewhere in the countryside. The change of scenery and atmosphere will help, and you can go on weekend trips more frequently.”</p><p>Jason let out a non-committal “hmm”.</p><p>“We’ll grab a quick dinner once we arrive, and then get down to packing the stuff up”, said Helena, trying to infuse her words with enthusiasm and excitement, but Jason only slumped further in his seat.</p><p>“I don’t know, Helena… I just … that apartment …I have this strange feeling in my heart that perhaps I shouldn’t leave. Like … like if I leave, then the last connection I have with … with him … will be lost. Forever.”</p><p>“Precisely why you <em>should</em> be moving out of that apartment, then”, Helena declared, a tad impatiently.</p><p>Jason didn’t say anything. Instead, his shoulders sagged impossibly more.</p><p>“Jas, let’s try for a new beginning, shall we? You can’t give up, brother.”</p><p>“Yeah. Yeah, I suppose you are right”, he tiredly rubbed his face and his sleep-deprived eyes, “Anyway, most of the things I already packed before I left. So as not to bother you much.”</p><p>“You are anything but a bother, brother.”</p><p>                              *************************</p><p>They decided to do a take-out for dinner, and grabbed some pizza from a nearby store before heading towards Jason’s apartment.</p><p>Stepping out of the elevator, they walked up to the closed door of the apartment, and Jason just stood there for a moment, unable to move, unable to think coherently.</p><p>For the past seven months, this same thing had happened to him every single day.</p><p>He would get back inside his building after work, and then, upon reaching the door to his apartment, he would just stand there, blankly facing the dark, varnished wood, keys in an unmoving hand, mind numb, heart giving painful twinges.</p><p>He would remember a night, many months back, when he had come home with a couple of movie tickets, brimming with joy and love, hoping to run straight into the waiting arms of his beloved man. </p><p>The man he had come to love as his husband, deep inside his heart.</p><p>And he had opened the door to a cold and utterly desolate apartment.</p><p>And now, every evening as he stood outside his door, just before turning the key in the lock, he would relive that moment, and while one treasonous part of his mind would silently hope that may be, just may be, as he opened the door this time, he would find Geralt lounging idly on the couch, smiling up at him, standing up and extending his arms to greet him, another sullen part of him would berate him for harbouring hopes, whispering to him how he was not good enough, worthy enough for the noble Witcher.</p><p>Jason was pulled back into reality by a soft touch to his elbow, and he turned to see Helena looking up at him worriedly.</p><p>“Jas?”</p><p>“Yes. Sorry, yes. Let me…”</p><p>And he turned the key and pushed open the door, stepping inside and flicking on the lights…</p><p>… to find that they were not alone.</p><p>                               *************************</p><p>Jason wasn’t sure if he had ever seen anyone quite so breathtakingly beautiful – so much so that she seemed to be wrapped up in a faint halo of light – her brocaded, deep purple silk gown glowing in the soft electric lights of his apartment, hair black as midnight cascading down her shoulders in delicate ringlets, her skin pale and far more soft and supple than the silk she wore, her plump lips a deep vermilion red, and…</p><p>… and her doe-like eyes a startling shade of violet, and power, strength of character and unparalleled charisma reflected in them.</p><p>His mouth fell open.</p><p>Helena, ever the epitome of brusque practicality, simply put on her best glaring face as she jutted her chin out and asked:</p><p>“Are you the next tenant? Because we haven’t vacated this place yet, and the landlord shouldn’t have given you the keys until tomorrow evening…”</p><p>“Helena”, Jason softly touched his sister’s shoulder, wondering how on earth she had presumed someone who looked and dressed like that could be anyone from this world, let alone the next tenant of this apartment, “I don’t think she is the next tenant.”</p><p>As Helena turned her confused eyes to him, the woman rose from his sofa (<em>Geralt’s sofa</em>, he vaguely thought) so daintily and with such utter elegance, swishing her flowing skirts all around her feet, that Jason wondered briefly if she expected him and Helena to bow to her.</p><p>“Hello, Jason” – even the voice sounded sort of surreal, and the smile that graced those lips, Jason was sure, would be able to charm the wits out of any sane person if she wanted it to.</p><p>And in a voice that shook with way too many emotions, he replied, “Hello, Yennefer.”</p><p>                                               ***************</p><p>Helena was glaring daggers at Yennefer.</p><p>Jason was relatively sure his sister would launch herself at the sorceress, screeching and clawing and biting and hissing like a bristling wildcat, at the slightest provocation.</p><p>The two women sat facing each other on the two sofas, and Jason had dragged a chair from the kitchen to sit between the two, hoping to ward off any ensuing fights and resulting accidents.</p><p>If Helena was proverbially lashing her tail in barely contained rage and the desire for vengeance, Yennefer was the picture of calm and unwavering serenity, completely ignoring the other woman, her violet eyes focused entirely on Jason.</p><p>“How … h-how  is he?”, Jason managed to inquire after several minutes of awkward silence prevailing over the living room, his throat feeling tight.</p><p>“Probably carousing and cavorting around with women like her…”, Helena’s voice dripped venom.</p><p>Yennefer ignored her.</p><p>“He’s alright. But incomplete.”</p><p>“Oh please!”, Helena rolled her eyes so hard Jason was slightly worried for her eyeballs.</p><p>“Jason, he needs you with him. You are his mate.”</p><p>“Is that why he left?”, Helena spat.</p><p>The sorceress finally turned her gaze upon the seething woman, her violet eyes nearly blazing.</p><p>“No. He left because his daughter’s life was in jeopardy. Because the castle where we all live was stormed by enemies, and we were worried our little girl would be taken from us. He left because his own daughter could have been slain, or worse.”</p><p>That robbed Helena of any retort that was about to come out of her lips.</p><p>“And it is because of <em>my</em> inability to keep the portal open for more than a few minutes that forced him to leave without saying goodbye. Without being able to leave a message. And to this day, he hates himself for that.”</p><p>Jason choked, which Yennefer did not miss.</p><p>“He did leave a message, of sorts. Using … using a sort of floral language”, he admitted.</p><p>Yennefer raised an eyebrow.</p><p>“I see. So that is why he sent you these.”</p><p>She picked up something from behind her, which had so far been hidden from the siblings’ view.</p><p>A bouquet.</p><p>It comprised a cluster of fluffy arbutus blossoms of a very light mauve hue, white cedar flowers tinged with a hint of faint pink, white almond blossoms with reddish-pink centres, and a stalk of pink gladioli flowers.</p><p>“He said you would know where to look for the meanings of these”, said the sorceress.</p><p>Jason gulped, then slowly reached into the bag still slung over his shoulder to bring out the book on floriography that had once been a gift from Helena to himself and Geralt.</p><p>“Go ahead. Take your time”, reassured Yennefer.</p><p>Flipping through the pages with slightly shaking fingers, he found the four he was looking for.</p><p>
  <em>Arbutus – thee only do I love.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Cedar flower – I live but for thee.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Gladioli – I am really sincere.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Almond flower – hope.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Hope that you will come home to me, Jas.</em>
</p><p>It was all that Jason could do to not burst into tears in front of a stranger, biting down on his lips hard and not caring that he drew blood in the process. Traitorous tears had already started streaming down his face, and his breaths became hitched no matter how hard he tried to breathe normally, making his chest inflate and constrict painfully.</p><p>Yennefer reached out and laid a gentle palm on his shoulder – a gesture that seemed rather out of place with how intimidating and overbearing she appeared to him.</p><p>“He could not come back in these last seven months because he was injured in the battle, Jason. Quite gravely. He really wanted to come back, trust me. We had to browbeat him into taking some much needed healing rest.”</p><p>And that was the last straw.</p><p>Jason broke down into gasping sobs, drowning in the tears and in the pain, accompanied by the now crippling guilt of having blamed Geralt so harshly for leaving, having hurled hateful words and profanities at the man he loved, having failed to trust in his loyalty and love, while all this time the man had been lying in bed, wounded.</p><p>He fell to the ground from the chair, all thoughts of controlling and concealing his emotions – his  pain and longing – fleeing his mind, all desires of appearing aloof and unaffected blotted out. His body doubled over as strangled sobs wracked through him, his head almost touching the floor.</p><p>“Jas!”, he distantly heard his sister’s concerned cry, but then Yennefer’s brusque voice cut her off, “Don’t. He needs to let this out. I’ve got him.”</p><p>“Like hell you have!”, snarled Helena.</p><p>“Helena, please”, Jason wheezed, but he didn’t think Helena heard.</p><p>And then, Yennefer spoke, and with a shiver, Jason realized just how menacing the sorceress sounded. Like a tigress protecting her cub, he vaguely thought through the haze of tears and numbness.</p><p>“Helena, I am as worried for my closest, most precious friend as you are for your brother. They love each other. They need each other. And they are both hurting. And I am going to make sure that they do not hurt anymore”, she nearly growled, “And for that, I need to speak with Jason. Alone.”</p><p>“Helena, sweetie, would you please go to my bedroom?” – it required Jason every ounce of strength to speak.</p><p>“I am not leaving you alone with this … this …”</p><p>“She won’t hurt me, Helena. Trust me. I know.”</p><p>And after a few seconds of scowling and glowering, his sister stormed out of the room, and closed the door to his bedroom with a resounding slam.</p><p>Within moments, the sorceress was on her knees, cradling Jason’s tear-streaked face. </p><p>“Is he truly okay, Yen? Are you lying to me? Has something happened? Are his injuries not healing…”</p><p>His string of words, increasingly becoming a babble of pure panic, was stalled by Yen firmly clasping his shoulders.</p><p>“I promise, this day forth, that I shall never ever lie to you, Jason. And I am NOT lying when I say that he is alright. Still exhausted, still hurting and needing medication and care, but he is alright. He is going to be fine.”</p><p>Jason sagged a bit.</p><p>“It is not his physical injuries I worry about, Jason. It is how desolate, how hollow, how lost he feels inside. He loves you with all his being, Jason, and he thinks he may have lost you.”</p><p>And unbidden, Jason’s mind was flooded with the memory of a morning up in Conwy Castle, of a too-warm hand that had cupped his face, of a deep rumbling voice, and his own voice speaking to the man with golden eyes in front of him…</p><p>
  <em>You have us. You have <strong>me</strong>. You will <strong>always</strong>  have me.</em>
</p><p>
  Yennefer was continuing.
</p><p>
  “I don’t think that my Geralt -- my best friend -- has lost his mate. But I need the confirmation, Jason. I need to know if you still love him.”
</p><p>
  Jason stared at her violet eyes, lips wobbling, as a fresh wave of sobs tried to push up his chest.
</p><p>
 “What do you think these tears are for, Yen?”
</p><p>
  Yen lowered her eyes, nodding.
</p><p>
  “He is my life, Yennefer. He is the meaning to my existence. He is the person I have found my God, my everything in.”
</p><p>And Jason saw with wonder as a smile of pure joy, love and relief washed over the surreally beautiful face that he had presumed was only capable of bearing predatory, contemptuous or dangerously coy smiles. The sorceress cupped his face and brought their foreheads together in a silent gesture of gratitude.</p><p>“And do you still wish to come with me? To our world? To be with him?”</p><p>Jason felt fresh tears sprouting again in his eyes, and he inhaled shakily.</p><p>“I so badly wanted to come see his world, Yen. So badly. So badly wanted to be by his side, all my life. And then …”, he hiccupped, “And then he went away, and so much time has passed, and I have been … I have been so broken, so hurting … I have felt unwanted and unloved and undesired and hated … by him …<em>by him</em>, Yen … all this time … my mind’s so numb now … I … I …”</p><p>He couldn’t continue anymore. Pain was obliterating words and thoughts and engulfing his entire being. </p><p>And then, he felt Yennefer’s strong, lithe frame hugging him. Hugging him tight and anchoring him, and lifting the fog of pain that had been threatening to drown him.</p><p>“Jason, I know you are very, very hurt. There has been a terrible, terrible misunderstanding, and I blame myself for not being able to give Geralt a warning sufficiently ahead of time, so that he could have warned you in turn, before he left. And you certainly do not deserve to feel all the negative things you have felt these past months. And I am so sorry”, she said, rocking the doctor in her arms, rubbing his back and massaging his hair, “But both of you have suffered. Are suffering. And both of you deserve better than that.”</p><p>She drew back and gazed into his face intently.</p><p>“Will you come with me, Jason? Please say yes only if your <strong>entire</strong> heart wants to. Please say yes only if you wish to be with Geralt, for the rest of your life, with your <strong>entire</strong> being.”</p><p>Jason stayed in her embrace for a long time, silent, his sobs slowly receding. </p><p>“Yes. Yes, I do. I love him, and I … I’m not complete without him. I don’t want that hole in my heart anymore.”</p><p>“I do not think I can thank you enough, Jason”, and Jason sensed the utter sincerity and honesty in that proclamation.</p><p>“But I have a question. Is it … will it be possible to come visit my family here sometimes? Or do I … do I have to …”</p><p>“Of course! You don’t have to think of this as a sacrifice, Jason. It will not be possible to visit very frequently, but certainly you do not have to bid them farewell. I personally will escort you here. I swear.”</p><p>“Thank you, Yen. I was a bit worried…”</p><p>“Understood and appreciated, dear brother. That is, if you allow me to think of you like that. That is how I had come to think of Jask.”</p><p>Jason looked up at the sorceress, a watery smile breaking through his tears.</p><p>“Yes, I would like that very much.”</p><p>********************</p><p>“It’s completely safe. Trust me, Jas.”</p><p>Yennefer extended her velvet-gloved hand towards him, but Jason still eyed the portal with considerable trepidation.</p><p>Up close, it looked significantly more dangerous – like a gyrating electric field of sorts – with the flickering bluish glow waxing and waning and the strange currents of air weaving around its circumference.</p><p>He stood a little distance away, his hand tightly clasped in both of Helena’s.</p><p>“You’re sure of this, Jas?”</p><p>Helena sounded terrified – an emotion Jason couldn’t remember when he saw last on his brave, bold, daring sister’s face.</p><p>“I am. And this is not goodbye, you know right? I am coming back to visit.”</p><p>“He is”, reassured Yennefer, who was now having to slightly raise her voice to be heard above the strange noise that the pulsating, whirring, occasionally rotating circular boundary of the portal was emitting – like the noise of wind rushing through a narrow tunnel at tremendous speeds – “I’ll try to bring him back around once a year. Not more frequent than that, except in emergencies, as this portal does require drawing up and maintaining quite a large reserve of magical energy.”</p><p>Helena didn’t seem too comforted by the sorceress’ reply, but she squeezed her brother’s hand anyway, then enveloped him in a tight hug.</p><p>“Tell Ma and Gemma I’m going to miss them, and tell Anton and Joshua they shouldn’t worry. Tell my nieces that I love them. Above all, let them know I am <em>coming back to visit them</em>, and with any luck, Geralt’s coming with me. Okay?”</p><p>“He is”, Yennefer smirked, ‘I’ll make sure Geralt visits his in-laws as often as possible.”</p><p>“Alright”, Helena gulped in deep breaths, still holding Jason close, “We are going to miss you. Tell the oaf that he better come visit us, or else I’ll team up with Katie and Karen in teaching him a lesson, or two.”</p><p>“Oaf will visit, hand in hand with your brother”, Jason placed a hand on his heart, making a solemn promise.</p><p>“Alright. Off you go. And sorceress?”</p><p>“Yes, Helena?”</p><p>“If Geralt breaks my brother’s heart again, or if you don’t take good care of him, I’ll personally hunt you two down, and strangle you both with my bare hands. You hear me?”</p><p>“Perfectly clearly, Helena. But you <em>will</em> see your brother, with his husband, about a year from now, at your doorstep. Upon my honour.”</p><p>Helena grunted, then let go of her brother’s hand.</p><p>Jason took one last look at his sister, his apartment, then shouldering the bag filled with things he had handpicked and which he believed he absolutely could not part with for the coming year, he reached out to take Yennefer’s hand.</p><p>*********************</p><p>Despite all the crackling and hissing and other weird, rather insidious-sounding noises that the portal kept emitting, Jason didn’t feel anything uncomfortable while walking through the gateway, except a slight rise in the air temperature around him. He had also squinted his eyes in order to not be dazzled by all that brilliance, as Yen had suggested.</p><p>And hand in hand, the doctor and the sorceress stepped out on to the cold stone floor of Kaer Morhen.</p><p>The moment the portal collapsed behind them, the entire place was plunged into pitch-black darkness.</p><p>“It’s past midnight here in Kaedwen. Everyone’s asleep”, Yen whispered, but the words still rang out in the near pin-drop silence, echoing off the walls.</p><p>A pinprick of light appeared in the midst of that impenetrable, almost inky darkness, and started growing larger and glowing brighter, until Jason could descry the shape of the lantern, and faintly the eerie-looking disembodied hands that held it up.</p><p>And as the lantern drew closer, and the pool of light filled his vision, Jason saw a young woman, dressed in a stout wool dress, with a pretty face and a kind smile, and curly black hair.</p><p>“Yen, you’re back! And … and Jason!”</p><p>“Hello, Triss”, he smiled cordially, and she immediately stepped forward and pulled him into a hug.</p><p>“Oh, Jason, it is so good to finally meet you. Welcome home, brother!”</p><p>And it suddenly dawned on the doctor how these two sorceresses – women who, Geralt had told him, were two of the most powerful people in the entire Continent - had already started to chip away at the wall of misery, heartbreak, pain, anger and betrayed hurtfulness around his heart, making him feel loved and welcome.</p><p>“Yen”, Triss turned to her friend, “You must be exhausted. Go sleep, I’ll take Jason from here.”</p><p>Yen nodded at Triss, then turned to Jason.</p><p>“Before I forget, Ciri sent you this gift”, she handed him an old notebook. Jason stared at it quizzically.</p><p>“It was a gift to her from her Pa. From Jaskier. He wrote many songs for her. All about how much he loved her, how much he wanted to see her grow up, how he would never let go, no matter what.”</p><p>Jason attempted to swallow past the lump in his throat, turning the first page of the notebook. A single line in a beautiful, slanting cursive hand adorned the centre of the page:</p><p>
  <em>To my Cub, from Pa.</em>
</p><p>“She asked me to tell you, that Geralt is not the only one who needs you here.”</p><p>Jason wasn’t sure if he could reply without his voice sounding tremulous.</p><p>
  <em>Go be my daughter’s new Pa, Jason.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Jaskier…</em>
</p><p>
  <em>No, no, none of that, Jason. Ciri loves you already. Don’t you doubt that.</em>
</p><p>Yen warmly clasped his hand in hers.</p><p>“Jason, welcome to your new home, brother. Please make sure you know in your heart that you are one of us. That you are loved, needed, cherished, and that you belong. And you need anything – anything at all – you ask. Simple as that.”</p><p>Jason tried not to cry again. Instead, he took her hand and kissed the knuckles and murmured, “Yes, my lady” – a reaction that elicited a quiet laughter from both the sorceresses.</p><p>“I think you are going to adapt in no time, brother”, said Triss affectionately, “Now come on. Let me take you upstairs.”</p><p>Jason tried to keep his booted footsteps as quiet as possible on the stone floor, though Triss asked him not to worry. As they were climbing up one of the winding staircases hewn out of the mountain, Jason realized with barely contained excitement how eager he was to see the castle (and indeed, everything else) in the light of the following day.</p><p>“Alright, this”, said Triss, as they walked down a landing two floors up and came to a stop in front of a rough-hewn stone door, “Is your room. Well, it used to be Jask’s, but now, it’s yours. And Jask’s clothes are all in there. All freshly laundered and ironed. Can you make do with those for the time being, until we can get new clothes tailored for you?”</p><p>“Triss, no new clothes will be necessary. Jaskier’s will do just fine.”</p><p>Triss smiled warmly, then continued, “There’s a wash basin and a pitcher filled with fresh water in there. Would you want to take a bath? I can show you the hot springs.”</p><p>“May be tomorrow, Triss. I’ll just change into one of Jaskier’s night-garments for now.”</p><p>“Yes, good. You must be tired. Oh and this”, she pointed to the stone door right next to his own, “Is Geralt’s.”</p><p>Jason’s heart lurched, and his throat went dry.</p><p>“Do you think he … he…”</p><p>Triss took his hand in hers.</p><p>“Breathe, Jason”, she said, “He loves you with all his heart. And he always will. And in time, the agonizing memories of these seven long months you two had to stay apart will fade, will stop having any power over you two. Don’t be afraid. And don’t doubt Geralt’s heart, nor yours, brother.”</p><p>“Triss, you are a darling, you know that?”</p><p>“Thank you. Now, I think he is asleep, because I did give him some valerian with his milk after dinner, though a smaller dose than he has needed this past month. Feel free to go see him after you’ve changed. And again, don’t be afraid, don’t hesitate.”</p><p>She left the lantern with him.</p><p>Jason changed into a snug night-shirt and linen trousers from Jaskier’s wardrobe, and washed his hands and face. But he knew that sleep would be a long time coming.</p><p>
  <em>Because right now, his heart was refusing to slow down. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Because right now his beloved … the man he had yielded his entire heart to … the man who he had believed these past seven months had abandoned him cruelly, heartlessly, discarded him without a second thought … and the man who he now knew had been forced to leave him to ensure his daughter’s safety and had been languishing in pain and remorse all this time because of that … was right next door.</em>
</p><p>*************************</p><p>The bed in Jaskier’s room - now his room - felt cold and uninviting.</p><p>Jason knew, after lying down on the mattress for only a few minutes, that he could no longer stay away from Geralt.</p><p>Sighing, he got out of the bed. And tiptoeing out on barefoot, came to stand in front of the door next to his own.</p><p>
  <em>Should I knock?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He is probably asleep. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Probably would consider this an intrusion in his private quarters.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Probably does not wish to see me…</em>
</p><p>Jason shook his head to rid himself of that last thought. He knew the truth now, and he knew that he owed it to Geralt, to himself, to their relationship, to the people who loved them and put so much faith in them, to not think of himself in such a lowly manner. </p><p>
  <em>I am worthy. I am lovable. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have a place in this world. And in the world I just left. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have a place in the lives of the people I love.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>I have a place in my beloved husband’s life.</em>
</p><p>Drawing a few deep breaths and holding his head high, his back straight, Jason Coleridge gently, soundlessly pushed open the door in front of him, and stepped inside.</p><p>A small fire burned in the hearth, and a soft orange glow permeated through the room, leaving the corners in shadow. The single oblong window on the wall to his left stood open, and the clear, crisp midnight-blue sky with its multitude of stars was visible through it. Another slightly ajar stone door stood next to the window, farther away from Jason, probably leading out onto a balcony. Cabinets, bookcases, a study table and a couple of wooden chairs, a washbasin and a pitcher-stand with a pitcher lined the wall to his right, an armour similar to the one that lay discarded in Jason’s old apartment hung from pegs on the wall, and an assortment of swords, knives, spears and other extremely sharp, coldly gleaming weapons stood stacked on mounts attached to the wall.</p><p>And right in front of him, in a low but sprawling bed, his white hair fanning out on all sides, framing his face like a silver-white halo, eyes closed, even breaths making his chest rise and fall in a calm rhythm, covered in a blanket that came up to his waist…</p><p>… lay Geralt.</p><p>Jason’s breath hitched.</p><p>The man looked ethereal in the strange light and shadow that dappled the room – like a sleeping angel or an ancient, noble deity.</p><p>But Jason also noted the new scars that peeked through the partially unbuttoned black linen shirt Geralt wore, the new scars that adorned his cheeks and his forehead.</p><p>Healing, but still bearing testimony to the beating his beloved White Wolf had taken, evidence to how his precious husband’s body had been battered in the battles of the past few months. </p><p>Jason knew his eyes were watering up, his heart clenching uncomfortably as a tornado of emotions raged through his system.</p><p>
  <em>Love. Concern. Fierce protectiveness. Anger at whomever dared to hurt his husband so. Both guilt and hurt that circumstances did not let him be by his husband’s side while Geralt valiantly fought his battles. Relief that he was okay. Joy that they were now reunited, finally.</em>
</p><p>Unable to resist the pull his heart was feeling, the doctor crossed the distance between himself and the large bed, and lifting a corner of the blanket, he squiggled in, scooting close to the extremely warm body lying next to him. </p><p>He still hadn’t been able to touch Geralt. It was hard for Jason – he was the kind of person, had had the kind of childhood that always made him hesitate, have doubts about whether he was truly welcome or not – despite his rational psyche arguing otherwise. </p><p>He turned on his side, resting his head on his hands on top of the pillow he was now sharing with Geralt, his eyes drinking in his husband’s sleeping form.</p><p>He was itching to touch that face, brush away those stray locks of hair, feel the contour of that proud nose, rest his palm on that noble forehead, kiss those slightly parted lips, rest his head on that broad chest…</p><p>“Jas … oh … Jas … forgive … please … I … Jas … come back …”</p><p>Halting, barely audible, the words seemingly detached from one another.</p><p>But nobody would have any difficulty piecing together the meaning from them.</p><p>
  <em>Geralt was dreaming. Perhaps a nightmare, judging by the pained frown on his forehead.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A dream about Jason. A dream where Geralt thinks he has lost his human.</em>
</p><p>And now, Jason saw with his heart twisting, writhing, blanching in pain…</p><p>
  <em>Geralt was crying. He was crying in his sleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Tears trickled down the side of his face from underneath his eyelids, from eyes that were still fast asleep.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Lips trembled. A soft sob escaped him.</em>
</p><p>And that was the last nudge that Jason needed.</p><p>He closed the few inches of distance that remained between their bodies, and wrapped himself around his sleeping, crying, aching husband.</p><p>“Geralt? Baby? I am here, darling. I am right here. Don’t cry, sweetie. Please don’t cry.”</p><p>He hadn’t noticed that he himself was in tears.</p><p>The valerian wasn’t enough to keep the Witcher asleep anymore.</p><p>Jason felt strong, muscular arms encompass his body, and he raised his head…</p><p>… to look straight into the gold-amber orbs he had literally <em>ached</em> these past seven months to drown in…</p><p>“Jas? Jas?”</p><p>“Yes, darling. It’s me”, he offered a watery smile to his astounded, overwhelmed, shaking, spellbound husband.</p><p>He crept up from where his head lay on Geralt’s chest and pressed his lips to his Wolf’s, letting himself become lost in the kiss.</p><p>This kiss was new. More precious. More fragile. More delicate. </p><p>Like letting each other know how much each missed the other.</p><p>Like letting each other know how important, how indispensable each was in the other's life.</p><p>Like letting each other know how much each <em>needed</em> the other to survive, to live.</p><p>Like letting each other know…</p><p>
  <em>To have and to hold from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and health, until death do us part.</em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>PLEASE, PLEASE READ AND REVIEW :-)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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